Windshear
by The Dream Whisperer
Summary: Ten years after their trip in the future, Yamamoto thought that they had managed to fix everything. But something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong with Hibari. YamamotoHibari, with ByakuranMukuro, MukuroTsuna and RyoheiGokudera. 13 - The fight begins.
1. Chapter 1

**Windshear   
**

Part 1/?

**Authors:** Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
Characters/Pairings:** Yamamoto, Hibari, Vongola. Eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.**  
Rating: **PG-13**  
Words: **2257**  
Summary:** Ten years after their trip in the future, Yamamoto thought that they had managed to fix everything. But something's wrong. Something's very wrong with Hibari.

Yamamoto looked around, a content smile on his slightly-flushed face. He'd downed two drinks so far. Somebody probably spiked the punch, but that's okay. Dad's restaurant was famous for the sashimi and the sake. He could take his alcohol - which made people watching all the more entertaining.

Tsuna was stuttering at Haru's advances and casting frantic little glances towards Kyoko every half second or so. Gokudera... was dancing on Ryohei's table.

No wonder, Yamamoto grinned. The guy had been goaded into having a dance off against Lambo, who was probably going to get it from Reborn later when the kiddo's done with his amiable chat with Dino and Bianchi.

Mukuro and company were over by their own corner. It was quite obvious that pineapple head was trying to match-make Ken and Chrome while they were drunk. Chikusa was nursing his drink in both hands and watching the show like he had popcorn.

Yamamoto blinked when Hibird flew past, chirping frantically.

Hibird? He blinked. Oh, that was right, Hibari came back this year. But where'd he go? Yamamoto followed the small yellow bird with his eyes as it flew around the room, two circles before it darted off towards one of the curtained balcony windows. Hm? Was it homing in on the elusive Cloud guardian? Curiosity got the better of him.

Hibari swirled his sake cup in his hand, leaning back slightly to look at the night sky. There weren't many starts here, and what little there were were outshined by Italian streetlamps and the lights from the houses surrounding the Vongola mansion. Behind him, a loud shout pierced through the sheer mass of noise, causing his brows creased in slight irritation. Such noisy, crowding herbivores...

But he didn't move an inch, too drowsy and content to sit on the balustrade of one of the many balconies of the mansion. He hadn't planned on attending the reunion - he did hate crowds still - but he just happened to be in Italy at the time, and Tetsu had reminded him of him in one of his rare indulgent moods. When Hibari Kyouya made a promise - even if it was just an RSVP - he kept it.

Pity that he couldn't bite all those herbivores to death. The noise was getting into him and disturbing his peaceful mood. He took another sip from the sake cup before setting it down beside him, closing his eyes, focusing on the whisper of cold air brushing against his cheeks and messing up his hair. Italian nights were cold ones, but he wasn't so weak as to be moved by such things.

"There you are," Yamamoto's voice was bright, and his laughter light. "I _thought _Hibird was looking for you." The little bird landed and bounced a bit on Hibari's shoulder as it twittered a cheerful greeting.

Yamamoto walked over to look down the balcony. Taking in the magnificent Italy sea view, he stretched, took a deep breath, then sighed as he turned back to the older man. "So what are you doing sitting alone out here? Not your kinda party?"

Hibari looked at him from underneath his bangs disdainfully but mildly curious due to the alcohol. He turned back to watch the sea and the sky - even from here, he could see and hear the movements of the tide, and it is peaceful and soothing. Not even this particular... man's presence could disrupt that.

"Yamamoto Takeshi," he intoned, bored dislike colouring his tone. The warm buzz of alcohol in his veins made him continue, "No party's 'my kind' of party."

Luckily, Yamamoto had some sense of self-preservation. He didn't laugh out loud at Hibari's words, even though the reply made him smile.

"What kind of ... company _do_ you like then?" He asked conversationally, "If you're not up for a crowd..."

Hibari let his eyes flutter shut, ignoring the man beside him. Yamamoto Takeshi had always struck him as strange - he was obviously not a herbivore, because no herbivore had that level of skill or talent for death, yet he seemed to be so determined to masquerade as one. And that was what Hibari couldn't understand - why a wolf like Yamamoto would willingly wear a sheep's clothing and follow a sheep's orders when he could be free.

He did not open his eyes when he next spoke, his tone conversational. "Tell me, Yamamoto Takeshi," he murmured. "Why do you like pretending to be an herbivore?"

The question was unexpected, so for a couple of seconds, Yamamoto just stared blankly at Hibari. He had... come to understand what Hibari really meant with his talk about carnivores and herbivores, but... those were fairly limited classifications for people, weren't they?

"What are you talking about?" He asked good-naturedly. "I eat meat and vegetables just like you do," he shrugged. "I'm not picky about what I eat."

Hibari shot him a glare that could melt the strongest steel, his fingers tightening around the balustrade, white knuckles matching the white cement. He wished for his tonfas at this moment, wished for the feel of cold steel in his hands, cold steel against the long column of Yamamoto's throat.

"Stop pretending," his voice was as cold as liquid nitrogen, burning through skin. "You know what I'm asking."

Yamamoto pursed his lips briefly, looking at Hibari contemplatively. Gokudera glared at him so much, what was another glare... especially when it came from such a pretty face and a small, willowy frame wrapped up in a dark blue kimono with black cherry blossoms?

But Hibari was far from just pretty, so Yamamoto just shifted his stance slightly and dimmed the smile somewhat. "What do you think I'm supposed to be?"

Hibari opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow at him, raising the sake cup to take another sip. Warmth effused his body, and he turned away to stare out at the sea again, eyes half-lidded. The cold night air blew gently against him, and he slanted his eyes to the side to meet Yamamoto's against.

"That's for you to decide," he said, shrugging. "But you can be much, much stronger than this, if you would just discard that sheepskin."

Yamamoto did laugh then, a short chuckle a tad lower than usual. "You're not just saying that," he remarked teasingly, "because you want to see me naked. You're looking for someone else to fight, aren't you?"

Hibari's mind screeched to a halt at that, and he whirled around, eyes widening slightly as he simply _stared_ at Yamamoto for a long moment. What- That was-

How did 'naked' have anything to do with the conversation they were having? This man... he was confusing Hibari more and more. Just _what_ was he, if he could surprise Hibari like that? And that the weapon he had used was simply words, and non-sequitors at that. Non-sequitors that were now making _images_ creep into his traitorous smile.

Hibari growled, his fingers twitching as he reached forward slightly. His eyes were fixated onto Yamamoto's throat, imagining his fingers closing around the tanned skin, squeezing. He exhaled, and closed his eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous," he barked.

"Oh, we'll get to fight someday," Yamamoto blithely continued. He slipped a hand into Hibari's and lifted it until he could adjust so they were linking pinkie fingers. "Probably not on Vongola property or anywhere that'd make Tsuna and the guys worried though. It'd be fun!"

Hibari glanced down to the hand - and pinkie - in his. A moment passed in complete silence. He took a short breath, and the movement was barely a flash as he let his fingers slip out of Yamamoto's, almost carressing the other man's hand as he brought it up in one smooth moment, and _twisted_ that finger back.

The light flush on his cheeks had disappeared entirely, and his eyes were flashing, half in anger and half in anticipation. "Did I give you the permission to touch me," he said, a clipped statement.

Yamamoto winced, quickly twisting his wrist to relieve the sharp pain, and grabbing Hibari's wrist to stop the motion with his freehand.

"I can't help it," he laughingly replied. "You were reaching up, with the cute blush over your cheeks. I thought _you_ were going to reach out first."

Hibari opened his mouth to growl, to retaliate against those words. His other, un-captured hand was drawn back, ready to strike Yamamoto across the face with a right hook that would surely send him tumbling over the balustrade when he felt _that_ familiar, irritating _itch_ in his chest and throat. He snapped his mouth shut immediately, swallowing and taking a long, harshly deep breath, feeling his throat _burn_ for a moment.

But he couldn't stop it.

The cough came gently, as it always did. He covered his mouth with his free hand, his other falling like a puppet with a string cut as he tried to cough as quietly and unobtrusively. But he couldn't - not matter how much he tried, how much sheer will he tried to exert, he simply _couldn't_ stop it. His eyes squeezed shut as he doubled over, fingers digging into his cheeks, white-knuckled as he tried to cover his mouth entirely enough to muffle the sound.

He snatched his other hand back from Yamamoto's grasp, holding on tightly to the balustrade as the world was knocked off-kilter. He held on tightly so he would not fall as his forehead touched his knees as he tried to breathe through his nose through the space between each painful, forceful exhale of air. The world, what little he could see of it through his nearly-shut eyes, spun on its axis. His shoulders shook slightly.

He _hated_ this weakness so much, especially when there seemed to be no cause for it.

Yamamoto's eyes widened. What was this? Hibari was sick? That looked like an awful cough though. Worse than normal coughing. How long had it been, he wondered. Had the guy even gone to a doctor?

"... Hey, Hibari," he touched the man's shoulder, steadying him. "That cough there doesn't look or sound good," he exclaimed. He drew his hand away and fumbled for a tissue, pressing it into Hibari's hand until his fingers curled around it, then just awkwardly settled for rubbing his back until the guy could throw him off.

Just how bad was he?!

Hibari wanted to push that invading hand off his shoulder immediately - he didn't need _any_ help, much less help from a hypocrite like Yamamoto - but he needed both of his hands where they were. The tissue was helpful, at the very least, and Hibari momentarily forgave Yamamoto for the transgression of touching him.

He gasped for breath in the barely-there breaks that he got from the coughs, but each draw just seemed to irritated his lungs and throat more and send him into another fit again. It was a never-ending vicious cycle, and he absolutely _hated_ the fact that Yamamoto was there - no one had managed to seen him like this before, because he had always left the room or chased his men out whenever he felt a fit approaching. But the coughs were getting worse and worse at a faster and faster rate.

Damn if he was going to die because of something as pathetic as his body's rebellion against him.

The fit gradually subsided, pain replacing the itch. His lungs ached, his throat burned, but those were inconsequential things. He let his hand fall from his mouth, taking in long, slow breaths, and did not open his eyes. Shrugging his left shoulder, he slitted his eyes open and glared at Yamamoto balefully.

"Don't touch me," he said, sounding hoarse and raspy like he had spent the week screaming,

It'd been a while since Yamamoto ever looked upon anything with wide-eyed surprise, but there it was, for a second before his eyes narrowed in disapproval and concern. He had another tissue ready just in case, and it looked like Hibari needed it.

Wilfully ignoring the warning signs, Yamamoto dabbed gently at the trickle of blood seeping from the corner of Hibari's lips. He sighed again, a stern frown upon his face.

"... What poor doctors did you threaten into secrecy for this?"

Hibari's eyes narrowed, and his hand reached up, closing against that offending hand that was touching him. But his grip was too weak at the moment, and he released it, letting his hand fall back down to his side as he concentrated on getting his breath back. He turned away from Yamamoto, steadying himself as he swung his legs over the balustrade, standing on slightly shaking legs and turning his back to the other man.

"It's none of your business," he said, curt and sharp, and started to walk away.

That reply told Yamamoto that there _were _doctors who knew what was wrong with Hibari, and it didn't take a genius to guess that the answer probably lay close to Namimori, since the older man practically owned the local high school and hospital.

Yamamoto tore his eyes from Hibari's retreating back, looking back over the balcony. Then, his eyes landed on the yellow ball of feathers that seemed to be staring at him from the edge. He laughed.

"It's not something I can just ignore now, is it?" Briefly, he fancied that Hibird might just be able to sing that to Hibari. But that was just silly. He glanced back towards where the other man had gone, then sighed and returned to the party.

_TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

**Windshear   
**

Part 2/?

**Authors:** Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
Characters/Pairings:** Yamamoto, Hibari, Vongola. Eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.**  
Rating:** PG-13**  
Words:** 1870**  
Summary:** Stubborn bastards that they are, Hibari delivers an ultimatum in the face of Yamamoto's persistence.

Hibari had went back to the guestroom given to him by Sawada after that _meeting_ with Yamamoto, but the noise was still far too piercing and loud, even after he closed both the door and windows. He had gritted his teeth and gave up on trying the sleep amongst the noise, especially when Sasagawa started caterwauling like a tortured cat, and moved towards the roof, still dressed in only his black silk sleeping yukata. The cool wind felt soothing against his hair and his neck, and when he breathed in the salt air it did not irritate his lungs, so he decided to just lie there for a while to wait for things to quieten down downstairs.

He must have been more tired than he had thought, because the next time he opened his eyes, the sky was streaked with orange and yellows and the air was warming up. He sat up slowly, drawing a sharp breath when his body protested, his muscles rebelling against him and shivering from the cold that had seeped through the thin yukata and through his skin.

He pulled the yukata closer to himself, drawing his legs up as he tried to will the feeling back into his fingers and hands. Really, he had been far too careless lately...

Yamamoto, up since the crack of dawn, was working up a good sweat in the underground training facilities half hoping for another chance to talk to Hibari, who was also known for training early in the morning - on anyone who broke the rules when they were in school at least.

Instead came Ryohei, who challenged him to a sparring session as soon as he saw him. Yamamoto shook his head then and waved off the invitation with a carefree laugh. There was someone else he was more interested in fighting anyway. Besides, even if Hibari came by, Yamamoto doubted that the other man would stick around for long if things were rowdy "to the EXTREME!"

Hibari...

He'd been... flitting in and out of Yamamoto's thoughts since the evening before, between carrying Gokudera into bed when his drunk sister started stripping - honestly, the guy would have been fine if she kept her goggles on - and keeping the bomber's cat from eating Hibird.

But now, the bird was safe but nowhere to be found, and still... Yamamoto wondered about Hibari. What might he be doing? Where might he be? Tsuna invited them all for the weekend and ... actually as long as they wanted to stay in Italy with him in the Vongola mansion, but Hibari was really like a drifting cloud, wasn't he?

Yamamoto chuckled to himself as those thoughts directed him towards the roof of the mansion. Wouldn't it just make sense to find Hibari up there?

Hibari decided that he didn't care about the cold anymore - he wasn't so weak to fall sick so easily - and leaned back on his hands, closing his eyes as he breathed in the cool morning air. The wind mussed his hair even further, creating a mess of tangles that would probably take him ages to unravel if he could be bothered to comb through it - he had cut his hair so he wouldn't have to bother with it, after all - and his head was tilted back, hair falling against his closed eyelids and baring his pale throat.

His yukata slipped off one shoulder from a particularly powerful gust, the silk feeling like a woven waterfall on his skin. He drew a leg up to his chest, baring it - with skin so pale that it contrasted starkly with the black colour of his yukata - to the morning air. He probably looked indecent right now, but honestly he could not be bothered with how others think of him, especially now when there was no herbivores around, trying to crowd.

Hibari exhales softly and smiles, the smallest of curves on the edge of his lips.

At that sight, it was like the wind had been knocked out of Yamamoto's lungs. Hibari was... really nice to look at when he was smiling. As if he wasn't considered one of the prettiest _boys_ when they were in high school.

Yamamoto couldn't come up with a greeting in that moment, but his feet were still moving. He bridged the distance easily, but thankfully, he remembered to stop before he got close enough to invade Hibari's personal space.

Gokudera could barely stand him in his personal space. Yamamoto... well, after ten years, he had learned _some _things.

"... Morning," he smiled. His voice was softer than normal, but his smile was just as warm. "How was the weather last night?"

Hibari didn't open his eyes, much less turn towards that voice. "Yamamoto Takeshi," he murmured, sounding almost bored. "Leave."

"It's an awful nice view here though," Yamamoto smiled vaguely, staring straight at Hibari. "And you didn't answer my question last night."

He sat down, a short distance beside him, cross-legged, and decided to start with something small. "Or maybe I should rephrase it... Can you stand _anybody_?"

Hibari slitted open his eyes, "You have a lot of questions and you presume a lot. Tell me: why should I even answer anyone of your questions? In fact," he continued, sounding rather contemplative, "why should I not throw you over the railing right now?"

"Well, for one thing, Tsuna would get upset," Yamamoto scratched his head. "If nothing else, that will probably make Dino and the kiddo pissed off at you." He chuckled, "And if you do manage to throw me over the railing, they'd probably find a way to make you clean up the mess."

Having answered the most likely rhetorical question, Yamamoto dropped the smile momentarily. "Are you all right?"

A look of annoyance flashed in Hibari's eyes, and his hands curled against the cold pavement of the roof. He exhaled in an exasperated gust, pulling the collar of his yukata back up his shoulders. Slowly, as if unfolding himself, he stood up and stepped over to the railing, leaning against it.

"Stop asking useless questions," he replied curtly after the long moment of silence for he knew better than to hope that Yamamoto would take the hint and leave. The man was notoriously oblivious. "Why are you here?" _What do I have to do for you to go away?_

"... I promised you a fight in the future," he smiled after a moment. Deciding that the truth would be best, he added, "Of course I'd want to know how well – or unwell – you are, right?"

And if there was anything he could do to help, really. Or maybe their Sun Guardian would be better with healing. Or Shamal. The crazy doctor _could_ be convinced to treat guys... on_ some_ occasions.

Hibari turned back to face Yamamoto, leaning against the cold metal of the railing. He shivered slightly, but his eyes caught Yamamoto's in a fierce, irritated gaze. "If you want a fight, then we can have one now." He snorted derisively, turning away to stare out to the horizon. When he next spoke, his voice was much quieter and subdued. "I am not ill, Yamamoto Takeshi."

"You were coughing up blood, Hibari... ... Kyouya, isn't it?" Yamamoto hazarded, with a contemplative tilt of his head. If the guy kept calling him by his full name, really, the least he could do was _try_ to get him to stop. "... You can call me Takeshi, you know." He might as well change the topic if Hibari didn't want to admit to being ill.

Hibari shot him a disdainful look, like how one would look at a dying bug at the bottom of one's shoe. Then he turned away to look back to the horizon, watching as the sun rose from the sea, its rays breaking through the clouds. The cool air brushed across his body once more, and he shivered slightly.

Yamamoto caught that unbidden movement though, and stood, walking closer almost soundlessly. With just a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt on, he didn't have much he could offer the kimono-clad man.

"Maa," he finally sighed. "I need permission, to ah... _touch _you, don't I?" He laughed, "Can I touch you? ... Or convince you to get off the roof? You don't have much on."

Hibari shot him another glare, even though he knew it would be useless. Pushing himself away from the railing, he walked towards the door of the roof, pointedly ignoring Yamamoto. He stopped at the door, a hand on the cold metal knob, and sighed, aggravated. "Do you often pry into business that is not yours, Yamamoto Takeshi?"

"Ahahaha," Yamamoto swung his arms up to rest on the back of his head. "It's funny. I've never really been all that good at ignoring you, _Hibari Kyouya_..."

Meaning that he'd tried before. And it didn't always work for long, especially since Hibari would show up randomly, or they'd hear from Hibird, and Hibari would disappear from their lives once again. But every time he left, there was always a sense of 'oh, he'll be back when the Vongola needs him; he's a guardian, like the rest of us, and ... Hibari is Hibari.'

But ... what was wrong with Hibari? How sick was he? Yamamoto didn't like that strange feeling he had - the feeling that Hibari might just drift off into the next life perhaps, the rest of them unawares.

A frown creased Hibari's brow, and he looked at Yamamoto out of the corner of his eyes. He disliked the way Yamamoto had pronounced his name, rolling the syllables around his tongue like he was _savouring_ them - it reminded Hibari far too much of how that Cavallone omnivore - too weak to be a predator, yet not an herbivore - used to pronounce his name. His eyelids fluttered shut for a moment before he turned around fully to face Yamamoto, leaning against the door.

"What do you mean?"

Yamamoto kept his hands behind the back of his head with his fingers loosely interlinked. There was an air of harmlessness about him as he casually walked closer. "I mean... you interest me. So it's hard for me to ignore you."

But that air simply made Hibari narrow his eyes even further, his shoulders tensing as he glared at Yamamoto. He had seen what this man was capable of, and what he disliked most of him was that sheepskin that he had already mentioned last night. Hibari growled under his breath and whirled around, opening the door.

"If you wished to speak to me, Yamamoto Takeshi," he said, voice cold as mid-winter frost, "then you might do well to remove that sheepskin. Speak to me as the man you really are, then perhaps," he tilted his head back, and smirked just so slightly, "I might just answer your questions."

With that, he padded down the staircase.

A few seconds after the door closed, Yamamoto ran a hand through his hair, still smiling, but it was a small secret one on his face rather than the one he usually showed the world. "Sheepskin..." He chuckled. There was a serious glint in his eyes.

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

**Windshear   
**

Part 3/?

**Authors:** Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
Characters/Pairings:** Yamamoto, Hibari, Vongola. Eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.**  
Words:** 5677  
**Summary:** A mission did not go as planned. It wasn't as easy as they thought to escape from the future.

Hibari wiped the sweat out of his eyes as he gripped his tonfas tighter in his hand, the cold steel pressing against his flesh, seeping in to nearly to the bone. His lips stretched into a bloodthirsty grin as he crouched down lower behind rows upon rows of cardboard boxes full of 'sardine' cans. And inside these cans, hidden within the stomachs of the sardines, were of course drugs, non-prescription. It's quite a genius idea, really.

He was waiting for a signal from Yamamoto – his temporary partner, because Reborn insisted, and Tsuna, good student he was, always listened to Reborn – so he could just slaughter that group of crowding, noisy herbivores already. These men... he snorted to himself. They were so incompetent as to not notice that he and Yamamoto had crept into their base two days ago, and yet they thought well enough to themselves to want to try to bring down the Vongola and assassinate Tsuna?

Empty-headed idiots. Empty vessels did make the most noise, he thought derisively to himself as he heard another loud cheer come from the group.

His throat tickled; his chest twinge with pain, like someone like plucked a nerve carelessly enough to severe it. He bit back the gasp and swallowed the cough. Damnit, not now. Not during a mission. Not when he's so close to his kill-

Goddamnit, why couldn't Yamamoto just hurry up?! What the hell was he doing?

Upstairs, Yamamoto had been sweeping the poker table clean and laughing it off while his sorry opponents groaned. It was all just a game, he said as he stood up, gathering what little belongings he'd brought. A harmless game, because he wasn't really out to empty their wallets. Seriously, he meant it, because, "There'll be plenty of Vongola money to go around after this."

This, being the moment he took a step forward, drawing Shigure Kintoki in a wide, horizontal arc above the table. Cards scattered. Heads rolled. The laughter around him halted into palpable shock.

And the Vongola Rain guardian kept going, quietly, calmly. One room, two, third floor cleared, down to second...

There was no savouring the moment, or freezing in horror, because it really wasn't a game. Yamamoto was on a mission. His name was on his family's payroll and, ironically, on the Hit List that his sorry opponents made up when they naively decided that they could take on the Vongola and make a name for themselves.

At first, Yamamoto had laughed out loud at these men who thought they could do away with him and his loved ones when they openly invited mercenaries, all but welcoming strangers to their cause. He wanted to see if there was anything worth salvaging before he and Hibari made a clean sweep of the place.

Reborn gave him the green light. Hibari tolerated his voluntary foray into enemy territory. But Yamamoto hadn't been completely honest with either of them, or even with himself.

It was just that... of all the Vongola guardians, they knew a few by name and face. It was inevitable with Gokudera, the Vongola Tenth's Right Hand Man. His distinctive coloring was hard to miss in its own right. Ryohei was just as loud on the radar. Yamamoto rather liked where he stood - infamous yet invisible.

Hibari would have liked that, he supposed, but... Hibari Kyouya was... is a legend among mafia. The strongest. The deadliest. The most recognizable, because the man never felt that he had anything to hide.

But it had just been that obvious to Yamamoto, after doing some research back in their hometown, that Hibari... wasn't in a good condition to fight. So when the time came for Hibari to act, Yamamoto had to make sure that the sick man would still have enough energy afterwards to bite him to death for taking matters into his own hands.

Yamamoto gave a cry as he thrust his blade upwards into another man's heart. It ended as a decisive shout when his sword struck home, his prayer to deliver a quick death answered.

Even Hibari's willpower and persistence had their limits, it seemed, with this irritating affliction of his. He couldn't stop the small cough from slipping out, and that was all it needed to give him away, because a second later, the warehouse went completely silent, as if the herbivores had scented a predator in their midst.

They were right about that, if they had been wrong with everything in their lives.

Hibari wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before unfolding himself and standing up, his eyes glinting cold and fierce. He heard one of the herbivores try to gasp his name, another one scrambling for his phone, but that was all the time they had. He struck.

It didn't take him long to clear the flock, but when he bent down to pick up the fallen phone from a puddle of blood, his brow creased. One of them had managed to get a call through, yet... yet the alarm wasn't sounding. Did Yamamoto manage to disable them, after all, and _conveniently_ forgot to give Hibari the signal? Hibari gritted his teeth, turning on his heel and running up the stairs.

The basement levels were all crawling with herbivores, but they were barely worth his interest - he bit them all to death with the ease of a lion stepping on an ant. It was only when he reached the upper floors that he realized what Yamamoto had been doing.

Blood coated the floor and the walls, the metallic smell of iron and death weaving in the air. The blood had not yet congealed - these men were not long dead, killed by Yamamoto's hand. No one else would be able to loop a head off a neck with such clean precision - the only reason so much blood was spilled was because of the sheer number of dead bodies. Hibari growled under his breath – that man... he stole Hibari's prey.

White shirt stained with ugly blotches of red, Yamamoto only halted when he saw Hibari at the top of the stairs. He blinked, and his metal sword reverted back to its rested state, looking as though it was a mere training katana soaked through with blood.

Yamamoto smiled sheepishly, "What happened downstairs?" He gave the man a quick once over as he spoke, shoulders sagging in relief when he deduced that Hibari barely broke a sweat.

Hibari tilted his head up, giving Yamamoto a flat, cold stare. "You were taking far too long, so I eliminated those," he waved a negligent hand. His eyes turned even harder and chillier as he took a step forward, then another, until his tonfas were within reach of Yamamoto's head. "I thought we had a plan."

"... Ahahaha, sorry." His smile was a little strained around the edges, but really, Yamamoto didn't look all that sorry. "I... did manage to disable all the alarms and traps, but," he glanced aside briefly, recalling how he probably sliced through everything that came at him. "I wanted to make sure..."

Hibari took a step forward, and another. He toyed with the tonfa in his hand, almost as if weighing it before twisting his wrist in a certain way, pressing that hidden catch in the joint between the handle and the bar itself.

He didn't need his ring's flame to deal with this nuisance.

Spikes rose from steel with a _snickt_, and Hibari's lips curled into a sneer as he held the tonfa against Yamamoto's throat, the two of them close enough to share breaths.

"You presume too much, Yamamoto Takeshi," he snarled, and drew his arm back.

Yamamoto dodged and easily stepped out of the way. It'd only been a matter of time before Hibari would be after his blood today. He'd been expecting it since first blood was drawn. But honestly, at least he could be sure that he wouldn't hurt Hibari. The guy was so righteous and straightforward. If his opponents were more underhanded - quite a lot of them couldn't fight actually, but they were certainly trigger happy -

A bullet... in Hibari. Was too much to risk.

"And you'd push yourself even if you broke more than half the bones in your body," he stated. It was fact after all, rather than an assumption.

Hibari's eyes flashed at the implication of the sentence, his footsteps quick as he moved forward, aiming for Yamamoto's throat again. How dare that man presume that he would have to 'push himself' with these mere herbivores? He bared his teeth and growled, reaching forward to grab onto Yamamoto's collar, and slammed him against the wall.

Then he gasped, his fingers turning numb suddenly as his weapons dropped on the floor. His traitorous legs folded upon themselves, sending him crashing to the ground as a hand grabbed at his throat, nearly clawing at it, another bunching his shirt. His lungs felt as if they had been replaced by acid, the pain flaring like raw fire in his chest. Every breath felt like a million knives stabbing into him, but he continued to gulp air nonetheless - he wasn't going to die because of this. He refused to.

He wasn't going to die such in such a pathetic way, like any other sick animal abandoned by the herd.

His vision swam, but he clung onto consciousness with all the tenacity of a drowning man who had just found a raft. Damnit- Damnit

Despite the fact that his head was ringing, it was automatic; Yamamoto dropped his weapon and made a grab for Hibari. The older man was alarmingly light however. Yamamoto swore beneath his breath - he could feel Hibari's ribs far too easily.

"Hang in there, Hibari," he fumbled for the cell phone in his pant pocket and barked orders at the backup. They would clean up the rest. Of that, he was certain, but Hibari...

"I'm sorry, but I still have to do this."

He picked him up bridal style - probably jostled him when he bent down to pick up their weapons as well, then headed down the stairs as quick and carefully as he could.

Hibari grabbed onto Yamamoto's tie and twisted it, pulling it back so that it wrapped around the other man's throat. Forcing his eyes completely open and ignoring the black stars clouding his vision, he swallowed and panted out, "Put. Me. Down."

He wasn't some damsel in distress that needed to be carried out. It was just pain - he had fought and won against enemies while feeling more pain than this. He didn't need anyone's help, and definitely not in such an absolutely humiliating way. Damnit- he twisted the tie even more, making sure that it pressed against the soft skin of Yamamoto's throat, his eyes flashing in unadulterated rage as he glared at the swordsman.

Yamamoto gave a breathless laugh. "I'll put you down. At the door. Or before anyone else sees." Ducking his head to counter the pressure against his neck, he was half-serious as he reasoned, "I can't do that while you're trying to strangle me..."

Hibari sounded perfectly reasonable - albeit with a snarl in his voice - as he countered, "If you put me down right now, then I will stop-"

His voice cut off halfway and he ducked his head down, his hand tightening even more on Yamamoto's tie but not pulling as a fresh wave of pain washed over him, knocking what little wind there was out of his lungs. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, pressing his lips together until they turned white from the pressure so he would not make any sound. He felt humiliated enough already, and he would rather die before showing Yamamoto more of his weaknesses.

He tried to breathe through his nose, curling towards himself involuntarily. It hurt; the agony was worse than when Mukuro had broken half his bones. At least at that time the pain was spread throughout his body - now it was concentrated on his chest, so much that he was starting to feel numb everywhere else.

For a moment, he doubted that he would be able to stand if Yamamoto put him down right now.

But that wasn't about to happen soon. Yamamoto's lips thinned as Hibari curled up. He tucked him into his arms, as securely as he could, and hurried down the stairs. Even when he reached the main entrance of the warehouse, he just set their weapons down so that he could focus on Hibari.

But Yamamoto said he'd put Hibari down, so he kneeled. Sat down, still holding the man. All he knew was that Hibari's illness wasn't contagious. The cause and cure however seemed little more than abstract concepts.

Hibari breathed through his nose and tried to regulate his breathing, calming his body down so it wouldn't get worse. The first time this had happened, he nearly had a panic attack on top of everything else, but now he knew how to deal with it - he had always been a fast learner. Picturing the pain to be a bunch of clouds in his chest, he slowly 'gathered' it all into a ball, concentrating all the pain to the place where he had been shot, all of five months ago - the corner of his left lung. Then he imagined the ball of be shut up in a box, and the box being shoved somewhere deep inside his psyche, so deep that he couldn't see it anymore.

The pain slowly subsided, and his breathing eased slightly. This... it was almost like meditation, except that rather than clearing his mind he was simply ignoring the pain. Sooner or later it would flare up again, but he would be away from Yamamoto - away from anyone else - by then.

He relaxed his grip on Yamamoto's tie, letting his hand fall down to his side. "Let me go," he ordered, voice barely above a hoarse whisper. "I can walk by myself."

Yamamoto cleared his throat and sighed. "Yeah, you might be able to walk by yourself," he began, "but you don't have to do that all the time when you've got friends, who are willing to support you."

Gradually, he lowered Hibari so that the man could lean against a wall. Then, he sat down beside him and looked at the cleanest spot in the room - the pipe ceiling.

"I know there's nothing much that I can do to help you, but if there's anything I can do for you, I want to."

Hibari propped his shoulder up against the wall, gathering his legs beneath him. He pressed his palm flat on the ground and used it to push himself upwards to a standing position, putting most of his weight against the wall. His legs wobbled slightly, still slightly numb, but Hibari steeled himself and pushed away from the wall, standing up straight.

The world blacked out for a moment, but he simply closed his eyes, then opened them. It was spinning slightly on its axis still, and he could feel blood pounding in his head - he was going to have a bad headache from this. But all of these were inconsequential.

Hibari Kyouya did whatever he wanted to do, and not even his own body was capable to stopping him.

He took a step forward, then turned slightly back, giving Yamamoto a cold glance. "Don't be so ridiculously sentimental. Get up; we're going."

Yamamoto watched him get up, wide-eyed with something akin to shock. He knew Hibari was strong - the guy could move even when poisoned with something that could kill wild elephants.

But this... this thing drew a reaction from him, and a violent one at that.

Nonetheless, it was heartening to see Hibari make it to his feet again. Yamamoto watched him carefully, preparing for anything. He wasn't even aware of the silly, sentimental smile upon his lips though.

The car pulled up just as Hibari and Yamamoto reached the main road - Kusakabe's timing was impeccable, as always. Pulling open the door to the backseat, Hibari dropped himself into the car and leaned back against the leather, closing his eyes for just a moment. He waited for Yamamoto to settle into the car before nodding, "Let's go, Tetsu."

Kusakabe didn't nod or acknowledge the order - he didn't need to. Shooting a quick, worried glance at his boss, he shook his head to himself and stepped on the accelerator. If Hibari needed anything else, he would say it - it simply wasn't Kusakabe's place to pry, even though he was worried about his leader's condition. After all, he did have self-preservation.

Hibari exhaled slowly, letting the wave of exhaustion wash over him like low tide over sand. Without opening his eyes, he announced, "I'm going to take a nap. Wake me and I'll bite you to death."

"Haha," Yamamoto just fastened his seat belt, and leaned back. "I'll wake you when we're back at the base."

Kusakabe kept his eyes on the road. There wasn't just something wrong with Hibari Kyouya, he thought. That answer convinced him that Yamamoto Takeshi was insane.

"Aah," Yamamoto stretched his arms. "Thanks for the ride, Kusakabe-san!" He turned towards Hibari, first to see if that would wake him, ... and then to stare, because... Hibari was still severely beautiful despite being ill enough to cough a lung out.

Hibari blinked, eyes fluttering open as he was woken up by the noise Yamamoto was making. The car had stopped already - they had most likely reached the Vongola mansion already - so he simply opened the car door and stepped outside without acknowledging either Kusakabe or Yamamoto.

He had noticed Yamamoto's stare, but he had gotten so used to eyes on him - either Mukuro and his creepy stalking tendencies, the wide, fear-filled eyes of his previous classmates, or enemies trying to take him down - that he simply dismissed it when he realized that there was no danger. Striding up to the door, he pressed his hand against a particular panel, and the door opened soundlessly.

Yamamoto grinned and hurried to catch up with Hibari, slowing down only when he was at his side. First things first, he and Hibari would report to Reborn. Together, then separately...

"Hey," Yamamoto looked over, "After this, let's grab dinner together." Call him a little paranoid, but he didn't want to leave Hibari alone for too long just yet.

Hibari slanted his eyes over to Yamamoto, giving him a flat, emotionless stare. "I'd rather not," he said, tone cold and dry. "What makes you think that I would want to spend so much time with you?"

"Ahahahaha," Yamamoto scratched the back of his head, "It was worth a shot," he shrugged.

Stopping in front of the office of the Vongola Tenth, Hibari raised a hand and knocked.

Through the door, they heard the voice of Sawada Tsunayoshi, who bid them to enter freely. As Yamamoto opened the door, his stance shifting slightly. He seemed a little more tired, moved a little slower.

Hibari, in contrast, straightened his shoulders even further as he stepped into the room. Tsuna's 'hyper-intuition' was dangerous - Hibari had no intention of letting anyone else, include the Vongola Head, know about his current weakness. The fact that Yamamoto had found out was damaging enough.

Hibird, who had been making its nest in Tsuna's hair, chirped his name and flew over to his shoulder, settling in. Hibari tilted his head slightly to the side to accommodate it.

"Sawada Tsunayoshi," he greeted, inclining his head slightly. From him, it meant as much as the deepest bow. Eyes flickered over to the man lounging on Tsuna's office couch, his hat pulled low over his eyes. Hibari's lips curled slightly into a smirk, "Yo, baby."

Reborn was no longer a baby - the curse was broken quite some time ago - but he had never objected to Hibari calling him that, and so Hibari had seen no need to change. The tall man, looking far more adult than the rest of them put together, tilted his hat backwards, turning his eyes up to smile at Hibari, a knowing glint in his eyes.

Hibari met those eyes straight on, challenging Reborn. The 'baby' had indeed kept his mouth shut about Hibari's weakness, for what reasons he could not fathom and had no interest in understanding. But Reborn seemed to almost taunt him with that knowledge every time they met. It was rather irritating.

Reborn eventually broke the stare, turning to Tsuna with a small smirk on his lips.

Tsuna was on his feet immediately when he saw the blood-speckled pair. "Hibari-san! Yamamoto!" He stopped short of Hibari's personal space and looked them up and down unabashedly. "H-how did everything go?"

It seemed as though he was afraid to ask, but Yamamoto was pretty sure Tsuna already heard quite a bit it from the cleanup crew.

"Maa..." He waved it off, "We did what we set out to do."

Hibari didn't even answer: he simply shrugged, crossing his arms and turning away. Even after so long, even after ordering these hits, Tsuna seemed to be unable to get over his distaste for blood. Really, it was quite disconcerting how much Tsuna had kept his herbivorish nature despite his current strength.

"There were some kids upstairs who didn't know what they were getting into when they joined," Yamamoto was telling Tsuna and Reborn. "I told them that it was nothing personal, and that they should get out of Family business while they're ahead, but," he shrugged, "either way they'll spread the message."

He'd only knocked them out after answering who he was: Rain.

Reborn nodded from his place on the couch. He watched Hibari for a moment, noting the slight sheen of sweat on his neck and forehead, barely noticeable to even him. Then, he turned back to Yamamoto, "Good. That's one less threat to the Vongola, then." He leaned back against the couch, the picture of relaxation. When he spoke again, his tone was perfectly casual. "Is there anything else you have to report? Hibari?"

Hibari did not scowl. He knew that the baby was trying to hint something to him, but he refused to take the bait. His expression unchanging, he answered tonelessly, "No."

Yamamoto turned to Hibari, a mild smile on his face. But then, he was always smiling like that. A corner of his lips quirked up as he looked away. "We weren't wounded there, kiddo. ... So don't worry, Tsuna."

He looked back at Tsuna, who seemed half-confused and half-relieved. "But... you're really bloody, Yamamoto..." Something nagged at Tsuna, and he couldn't quite place his finger on it. He could faintly tell that Yamamoto was hiding something. And from earlier reports, he and Hibari really cleaned out the area. Hibari looked normal with only a few speckles of blood on his shirt, but Yamamoto's shirt had odd smears here and there like he'd fought someone without his sword to put them at a distance.

Reborn raised an eyebrow - good, Tsuna's observational skills were increasing again, even without switching on his hyper-intuition - and smirked slightly, hiding his eyes with the brim of his hat. "Oh? Did the two of you end up fighting each other?"

He doubted it - Yamamoto and Hibari did work the best together, after all, with nary a conflict. In fact, Yamamoto was the only person whom Hibari could work with - Gokudera ended up wanting to blow him up, Ryohei lost his temper three seconds in, Lambo was terrified, and Mukuro... he wasn't as much of an idiot as to try to pair them together. But he couldn't resist teasing them - they were as much his students as Tsuna was, after all.

Hibari's flickered over to Reborn for a moment, ignoring the bait, again. "Is there anything else? If not, I'm going."

Yamamoto laughed at the question. It was so like Reborn to hit the nail on the hammer seemingly without any effort. Hibari fought him tooth and nail when he carried him. He looked down at his own shirt, so similarly crumpled, like the rest of Hibari's clothes.

He ignored the question though, especially since Reborn's next words caught his full attention.

"Wait," Reborn said, tilting his head up to look at Hibari with narrowed eyes. "It wasn't the sakura, Hibari. It was the white orchid."

The white orchid?

Byakuran flickered through their minds. Yamamoto gaped and Tsuna gave a start.

"R-Reborn! What are you talking about?"

Hibari's eyes narrowed, and his hands clenched involuntarily. The Millefiore- no, they were only the Gesso family now. Uni and the Giglionero family never did approach Byakuran for help - Dino got to them first. They had made very sure about that.

He closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling a long, silent breath. Given Byakuran's personality, this made finding the cure even more difficult. Not that it's going to stop him - far from it. More than just his life, it was his pride that was on the line - he wasn't going to be taken down as easy as a bullet to the lung and a disease that turned his own body against him.

Reborn smiled to himself both at Tsuna's reaction - the boy still had much to learn - and the hard light in Hibari's eyes. He wasn't that he had thought Hibari would give up - those words were the antithesis to Hibari's entire being - but with that much of sheer stubbornness, it didn't look as if Hibari was going to go down any time soon.

"Nothing, silly Tsuna," he smirked at Hibari, not looking at his student. "Just a little word game that we're playing."

Hibari rolled his eyes - the baby seemed to have grown even fonder of his little 'games' with Tsuna ever since he aged back to an adult. Shrugging, he turned away, "I'm going back," he announced. Hibird echoed the sentiment.

"A-All right then," Tsuna nodded. "Thank you for your work, Hibari-san." He looked from one guardian to the other, about to thank him as well, when...

Yamamoto looked torn between Hibari and Reborn. On the one hand, he wanted to be sure Hibari was going to be all right at least for the time being. On the other hand, he wanted a private word with Reborn about what he just said.

Was Byakuran involved in what he thought Reborn was talking about-?

"Yamamoto?"

Startled, Yamamoto looked back at the young man standing in front of him. "... Ahahaha, actually, I..." He hesitated, waiting for the door to shut.

"I wanna talk with the kiddo 'bout something, if you don't mind?" He looked at the other two.

Yamamoto knew, Reborn realized in a flash of insight, his eyes snapping towards that Guardian from where he was watching Hibari walk out of the door. Now that was unexpected - Reborn himself only knew about Hibari's condition because Hibari had wanted information from him, and because Reborn had managed to manipulate that conversation enough to get the truth out of him. He didn't expect anyone else to be aware, because if there was anything Hibari hated the most, it was revealing any weakness.

He pushed himself off the couch, standing and dusting himself off needlessly. "Come with me, Yamamoto," he said. "I have something that I want to talk to you about as well."

"Great!" Yamamoto grinned brightly. "Later, Tsuna!" He waved and followed Reborn out the door before Tsuna could even think 'why didn't Reborn mention anything like that sooner'.

"Later!"

Tsuna worried his lower lip for a moment, then sighed as he glanced back at his table. His report-filled table. Fine then. Reborn would tell him if there was something he seriously needed to know - or call him silly for not knowing when the time was right. He'd just have to keep a closer eye on Yamamoto in the meantime...

As Reborn led him up to the roof of the mansion, Yamamoto quietly gathered his thoughts. Reborn had proof that Byakuran was behind Hibari's illness? Why? Why him of all people? Hadn't he targeted Tsuna before?

It wasn't that he wanted history to repeat itself. After fighting Millefiore almost ten years ago, and successfully preventing its formation, it was obvious many things would be different.

Reborn opened the door of the roof, stepping through. He closed the door behind Yamamoto before striding over to the edge, leaning over the railing as he stared out at the beautiful Italian sea view. While he was in Japan, he had missed this (as much as he generally missed anything) - the smell of the salty sea air, the distant lights of Venice, the barely-there sounds of the moving tide. Reborn closed his eyes.

"Yamamoto," he began. "Do you know how Tsuna had died, in that world?"

Yamamoto's mind shut down then. Almost mechanically, he shook his head,"... Gamma said that he was gunned down, but I don't know anything more than that."

They'd never asked to know more, as though it was bad luck, or because hearing it spoken out loud might actually make it happen in their world, to their Tsuna.

"Are you telling me this is related?"

Reborn watched him silently. He knew that this was a topic that was still sensitive to those who went to the future ten years ago, but it was an issue that needed to be dealt with. Especially now.

"Ah," he nodded. "In that world... Tsuna was shot... but it was only in the lung by a stray bullet. It wasn't fatal, so no one had thought much about it after the wound healed, but then..." he took a breath. It was his greatest failure to date, even though it wasn't really his - it was the mistake of the 'him' in that parallel world. Yet it was still choking to speak about it.

"His lungs started breaking down, seemingly for no reason. It was, I heard, a horrifically painful process for him," his tone was almost contemplative, thoughtful, his emotions veiled. "It was so painful that one day he called Hibari over and told him a few things - about Millefiore, about how to change things. Then he requested something."

Reborn turned around and faced Yamamoto squarely, meeting those oddly blank eyes with his own intense ones. "Hibari was the one who killed Tsuna in that world. In an act of mercy."

"... Heh," Yamamoto couldn't quite laugh actually. "A bullet to the lung... and Hibari got involved?" He stared at his shoes, his smile turning bitter. It was bad enough to find out that his father was killed in that world, and to learn what he had done as a result of it.

He rubbed his chin, the skin there smooth because, thankfully, he never went nuts to avenge his father's death in this world.

"But why did Hibari get shot this time? He didn't take a shot for Tsuna..."

Reborn turned back to face the sea again, his eyes half-lidded. But his hands betrayed his tension, gripping the cold metal railing tightly enough to make the bones of his wrists stand out. His jaw tightened momentarily before he sighed and relaxed himself, folding his arms.

"Tsuna's too well-protected - all of us made sure of that," he looked up and stared into the distance. "I'm guessing that Byakuran decided to take a different route this time, and kill off the strongest Guardian rather than the leader."

His tone was deceptively casual, as if this was a conversation about the weather.

Yamamoto closed his eyes. Two seconds later he threw his head back to give an abrupt laugh that ended with a tight smile. He said nothing as he leaned against the railing, eyeing the orangey pink clouds around the setting sun.

It seemed like the same thing was happening all over again, really. Tsuna, his father, and now Hibari: it was all just cause and effect. They changed some variables but they couldn't change everything.

"Will he...?"

Reborn pulled his hat down further, hiding his eyes. "It depends on how soon we can get the cure. I doubt it, however." He smiled slightly, turning his eyes up to look into Yamamoto's. "Hibari's willpower is legendary, after all."

A short pause, and he shook his head, "How did you find out about it?"

Yamamoto looked at Reborn. "He coughed," he simply said, before it occurred to him how bad it must have been for Hibari for him to show it. "It looked painful," he added. The words felt inadequate. "It sounded painful too, but he insisted nothing was wrong, so I asked his doctors."

Reborn chuckled lightly, leaning back against the railing, his posture now relaxed. He was right - Hibari didn't tell him about it; Yamamoto had to figure it out by himself. It was certainly interesting that Yamamoto actually tried to find out what happened... He made a mental note to watch these two closely, because there might be something interesting blooming.

But, Hibari's condition took precedence.

"I'm surprised that they even told you," he pushed the brim of his hat back, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "I was under the impression that they were terrified into keeping their mouths shut."

And Yamamoto terrified them into opening their mouths when, "I just smiled at them and told them I'm one of... 'Kyouya's' concerned friends."

Reborn laughed again. He wasn't entirely surprised by that - Yamamoto's smile was one of his greatest weapons in his arsenal, after all. "Only you could have pulled that off," he commented, words that were almost praise.

Pushing himself off the railing, he started towards the door. He stopped right in front of it and turned around, giving Yamamoto a somewhat serious look, "I don't think I need to remind you to inform Hibari of this, hmm?"

_TBC_


	4. Chapter 4

**Windshear   
**

Part 4/?

**Authors:** Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
Characters/Pairings:** Yamamoto, Hibari, Gokudera, Reborn. Yamamoto/Gokudera in this chapter. Eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.**  
Rating: **R**  
Words: **5853**  
Summary:** Yamamoto's to-do list: dinner with Hibari and... Gokudera. Hibari's schedule: Sleep, not that anyone gets much of it tonight.

The moment he left the Vongola Tenth's office, Hibari headed straight for his room in the Italian base for a shower. He did like fighting, but the residue of a fight - blood drying in his hair, sweat making his clothes cling to his body - he disliked the feel of it.

Hibari had just finished his shower and was reading through some of his men's reports when he heard a knock. Eyes narrowing, he uncrossed his legs and stepped towards it, swinging the door open. A flash of irritation crossed his face, for it was Yamamoto once again, as if it wasn't enough to be on the same mission with the Rain Guardian for the past few days. 

The younger man had changed out of his bloodied garments and was now dressed in an old t-shirt with a loose pair of sweatpants, and his hair was slightly damp from what must have been a quick shower. There was still a towel around his shoulders after all.

"What," Hibari intoned.

Yamamoto, with faint _faint _relief and trepidation in his warm brown eyes, smiled upon seeing Hibari's face.

"Have you had dinner yet?" Hibari scowled at the question, but Yamamoto pressed on, his words sounding casual, almost off-hand. "The kiddo told me something interesting after you left the room..." 

Letting a long breath escape his mouth, Hibari shook his head. It was almost a sigh.  "No. Yamamoto Takeshi." But if it was from Reborn it had to be important; Hibari raised an eyebrow, the edges of his lips curving slightly into a smirk, "Are you offering to treat me?"

"Sure!" Yamamoto shrugged, grinning. "Or, I could make you something in the kitchen, since," he gestures between his clothes and the black yukata that hung beautifully on the Hibari's smaller frame, "you know, we've both changed already. What do you feel up for?"

Hibari cocked his head to the side, considering. After a moment, he stepped back. "Sushi," he said decisively. 

Then, he closed the door on the other man's face.

As he picked up a report again, he heard laughter from behind the door. 

"Okay," Yamamoto said brightly, "I'll see ya downstairs in half an hour!"

***

Exactly half an hour later, Hibari finished the pile of reports he was reading and left the room, heading towards the kitchen. He was actually rather curious about the entire situation - about what Reborn had told Yamamoto, and about... Yamamoto cooking. 

Hibari knew that the other man was a son of a sushi chef, but he had never eaten anything made by_ him_ before.

Leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen, he greeted Yamamoto with a curt, simple, "Yo."

Yamamoto was already grinning when he looked over his shoulder towards Hibari. "Come on, have a seat." From the freezer, he took out a bottle of sake, still chilled in a small bowl of ice, and set it on the table, removing the plastic covers on the plates - "Tada~!" - with a showman's flourish. 

And it looked entirely natural coming from Yamamoto. Hibari looked down at the food. 

Fluke, salmon, tuna, yellowtail, cucumber, avocado - be it due to Sawada Tsunayoshi's heritage, the rest of the guardians, or because Reborn knew _someone_ in the base could make good sushi, there was no shortage of ingredients in the mansion when it came to Japanese cuisine. Hibari recalled that Yamamoto had always been vocally thankful... just not as loud about it as Sasagawa Ryohei and the baby cow.

Hibari swept into the room, pulled up a chair and sat down at the small table, his eyes following Yamamoto as the man still puttered about. Sometimes he still wondered _what_ a man like Yamamoto - eternally cheerful and outgoing, and who, until recently, usually used the flat edge of his sword in fights - was doing in the Mafia. 

But then he would see him in action, the sword cutting through bodies as if they were nothing more than straw dolls, and it became all too clear.

Hibari shook his head, looking from the plates of sushi on the table to the chef, almost amused. "You made a lot - did you invite anyone else?"

Yamamoto laughed merrily, slightly embarrassed as he admitted, "Nah, I just started making some. Then I realized I don't know what you'd like in particular, and didn't want to assume, so..." He shrugged. "Eat as much as you want."

Hibari shook his head again. It was simply a waste of food, but he supposed that the Vongola Family could more than afford such waste. In any case, it wasn't his business to care. He picked up the chopsticks, and then realized that there was something missing from the table.

Eyes narrowing, he stood up, striding over to one of the cupboards. He pulled out a tin of loose green tea leaves, and a tea kettle, half filling it with mineral water from the fridge before placing it on the stove and turning the fire up. 

When he first came to the base, he quickly realized that they used tea bags, and _Italian_ tea bags at that. After a few words with the resident secretary however, they now imported genuine Japanese tea; no one ever refused Hibari Kyouya when he wanted something.

The tea set he removed from one of the lower cupboards, carrying it over to the table. Yamamoto still had a silly smile on his face, but as he said nothing, Hibari ignored him.

Once the water was boiling, he took the kettle off the stove, carrying it over to the table. He stared at the other man. Then, he raised an eyebrow, dry and almost derisive.

"Do you not know how to make tea, Yamamoto Takeshi?"

"Haha," Yamamoto gave him a typical boyish grin as he shrugged. "Ryohei says you make the _best _tea.

"And, like I said. I don't know what you'd like yet, but I know there aren't enough teapots to make every kind I find."

Hibari snorted, shaking his head, "What do you take with sushi other than green tea and sake?" 

Yamamoto could have answered something such as pop, beer, water - milk even - but that would just have been cheeky, so he said nothing. 

Hibari did not address the indirect compliment because he saw no need to. And he had let the boiling water cool for long enough. 

Two flat teaspoonfuls of the loose leaf into the teapot, and he lifted his sleeve out of the way, pouring in the water until the teapot was a quarter full. As Hibari went through this makeshift ceremony, he let his mind sink into its usual meditative haze, feeling the ever-present pain in his chest fade to the back of his mind.

Yamamoto straightened up from a comfy half-slouch watching Hibari's preparations with avid interest. His father had shown him what a proper tea ceremony was supposed to be - even drilled it in him, but this... Well, they weren't kneeling on straw mats, and they weren't even in Japan, but Hibari... still looked damn good in his yukata. Idly, Yamamoto wondered if he should have worn one as well, instead of sweat pants. He grinned to himself, and then schooled his face into a polite smile.

Hibari simply focused on the cups that he had placed in front of Yamamoto and himself. Pulling his sleeve further back as he lifted the teapot, he poured the tea for the both of them, smiling slightly as the sweet aroma rose from the cups, filling the room.

It was the first time that Yamamoto _ever _saw Hibari smile at something that did not involve blood being spilt. And it was pretty incredible.

Pretty. And Incredible.

Hibari picked up his cup, sipped it gently, and found it perfect, as always. He liked tea - by itself, it was calming, and the little ritual that was simple and yet complex, with many little details that he _had_ to pay attention to. It honed his focus and cleared his mind, and was a challenge, akin to fighting, except that it was far more peaceful and did not get any herbivores maimed or killed.

Swirling the tea slightly, he took another sip before placing it down on the table and picking up his chopsticks. When he spoke again, it was business-like, "What did the baby tell you?"

Yamamoto scrambled to get his wits together at the abrupt change, but the question's answer was sobering enough. His brows creased. "I'd prefer we enjoy our meal first."

He picked up his cup and closed his eyes, taking a slow sip. Then, he smiled vaguely as he looked at Hibari again, to soften his words. "You're not going to like the answer at any rate. Why let it spoil the food?" 

Hibari just eyed him for a moment. 

Yamamoto's refusal only made him more intrigued by what the baby had said. But the years had taught him patience, and also how... well, not to compromise, but to _wait_ instead of pushing and pushing for things he wanted.

"Alright then," he murmured.

And that garnered another grin from Yamamoto, who then ducked his head down and took another sip of tea. 

Yamamoto swallowed - yes, good, rich green tea, he noted - and put the cup down just as someone with a familiar gait entered his peripheral vision.

Gokudera paused at the kitchen entrance. He looked from Yamamoto to Hibari, the two of them sitting across from each other at the table with an inviting assortment of sushi on the plates between them, and hot tea wafting cosily all around them.

He opened his mouth. Confusion crossed his face, but his question was cut off when his stomach growled.

"Haha, back for a late night snack?" 

Yamamoto broke the sudden silence that followed with a typical, vacuous laugh, and while Hibari remained outwardly unmoved, Gokudera visibly bristled, having spent far too many years listening to that laugh _not_ to respond. 

Blushing faintly, Gokudera crossed his arms. "I just got back." It wasn't as though he had dinner earlier, so _of course_ he was hungry. 

Hibari popped a cucumber maki into his mouth as he watched the two, faintly amused and annoyed. Gokudera was really like the cat he owned - the real one, not the one from a box that didn't exist in this future - far too quick to bristle and hiss and claw. He was also too loud.

Putting down his chopsticks with a soft 'clink', Hibari turned to the Storm Guardian.  "Gokudera Hayato," he said. "Either be quiet if you intend to sit down and eat, or leave."

Gokudera turned to glare at Hibari, but it bounced off the bastard; some things never changed. He was about to reply, lips curling into a sneer, when Yamamoto beat him to it, standing with a disarming smile. 

"Hey, why don't you grab a shower and a change of clothes first? I'll bring you food later." 

Hibari turned away from the two, already disinterested in their conversation. His chest had started hurting again- or, rather, his control over himself had slipped enough that he was now noticing the pain. Taking a long, slow breath, he put down his chopsticks and picked up the cup of tea, hiding his lips - pressed into a tight white line - behind the cup.

Damn if he was going to slip up again in front of another of this bunch of busybodies.

Meanwhile, Gokudera turned a glower on Yamamoto.  "A shower. And a change of clothes." He walked towards him calmly and evenly, the softened tone of his voice like a warning, clear as crystal, before he growled, "Do I smell?" 

It was a habit, being argumentative, and out of habit, Yamamoto laughed and walked over. Except he leaned forward this time, and made a show of smelling Gokudera's hair.

"Yeah. You smell like gunpowder... and sweat," Yamamoto declared, then leaned back, a pleasant smile on his face. No, a smirk. "Come on, there'll be enough food for you by the time you smell like baby powder."

Hibari did not need to know what Gokudera smelled like. 

"Wha-" And Gokudera was pink again, jaw dropped and eyes wide, darting from Yamamoto to Hibari and back again. It occurred then to Gokudera that Yamamoto wanted him to leave.

 Hibari... may or may not have cared as long as he was quiet - which was a tall order on its own. But if he didn't leave, Yamamoto, that baseball idiot, was probably going to spew out more things Hibari didn't need to hear; Gokudera just knew it. 

"My room," Gokudera stepped back with a look that said Yamamoto was going to get it later. "Half an hour." He spun on his heel and left. 

Meanwhile, Hibari had been ignoring the room around him in favour of holding on to his porcelain cup and making sure that his hand didn't tremble. The pain hit him suddenly like a ton of bricks to broken ribs, but his only visible reactions were the narrowing of his eyes and the whitening of his knuckles and fingertips.

He put down his cup and closed his eyes, letting his fingers slip down to hold onto the edge of the table. The noise subsided - it seemed that Gokudera had left - but Hibari could barely notice anything beyond the roaring in his ears. A wave of nausea crashed upon him, and he gritted his teeth at the feel of bile at the back of his throat and the white sparks behind his eyelids.

He wouldn't let little things like his betraying body stop him from getting information out of Yamamoto. He simply wouldn't allow it.

Through sheer stubbornness, Hibari pushed the pain back to the corner of his mind, ignoring it the best he could. He relaxed his fingers, his shoulders, his jaw, and opened his eyes.

Serenely, as if nothing had happened, Hibari picked up his abandoned cup of tea and took a sip.

Yamamoto was looking towards the exit with that fond smile upon his lips, the one he wore around people he particularly liked. When he turned around however, Hibari still has his eyes closed. Yamamoto noted the slightly creased eyebrows and the tenseness around his jaw, and watched it fade away when Hibari opened his eyes. If he hadn't been concerned, he might have been awed at the transformation.

He decided against calling attention to that however, and sat down again, frowning subconsciously as he did so.

Leaning his head against the back of his hand, Hibari watched with passing interest as Yamamoto's frown seemed to deepen. But he didn't question it or take further notice, because it simply wasn't in his nature to do so. Reborn once called him self-centred, and he agreed, in his own way. Why should he pay attention to lowly, crowding, noisy herbivores whose blood wasn't even worthy even to stain his suit, after all? Those who caught his attention were few, and even those he rarely noticed outside of battle.

As for Yamamoto... He struck Hibari as something of an anomaly. Hibari picked up another piece of sushi and popped it into his mouth.

Yamamoto knew better than to attempt at small talk with the traditional man during dinner. They ate quietly. Hibari wasn't eating as much as what Yamamoto would have considered healthy, but according to Reborn and with what he'd seen, the man was far from healthy. When Hibari announced that he was finished, Yamamoto quickly cleared things up. True to his word, he began picking out a selection of sushi for Gokudera using the clean end of his chopsticks to set the pieces aside on another plate.

"I'm going to put the rest in the fridge. They'll be good until tomorrow afternoon or so." Or gone by then, if the rest of the _famiglia_ had anything to say about it. But that wasn't the main point. Rather, it was just that the food wasn't bad, Yamamoto knew, and Hibari... hadn't eaten enough. "Feel free if you're up for more later, okay?" 

Hibari only shrugged, turning away to look out of the kitchen's small window. The sky had darkened a long time ago, but the clouds - heavy and purple and sparking slightly - stood out clearly in the night sky. Not even the rows upon rows of Italian buildings could hide thunderclouds when they were moving into the city.

He turned towards Yamamoto, leaned forward and rested his chin over the back of a hand. "What did the baby tell you?" 

Yamamoto looked at him then. A pause. He settled into his seat again and took a shallow breath before he began.

"That kiddo... He told me about how Tsuna died in the future that we all averted: a bullet to the lung, a wound that was treated and thought to be healed." Yamamoto's tone was business-like as he went through the facts, but his eyes were sad. "That same lung started breaking down afterwards for no apparent reason, and... it hurt so much that... _that_ Tsuna turned to... that Hibari for euthanasia.

"He knew that the Millefiore were behind it somehow, so he told that Hibari how to change things, and... I guess you can figure out the rest."

Hibari listened to him in silence. A wry, rather bitter smirk curved his lips at the end of the speech, and he let his hands fall to his lap, turning away from Yamamoto to stare at a spot on the wall.

The more things changed, the more they seemed to stay the same. They had certainly changed the future: boxes didn't exist anymore, the Vongola rings still existed - _his_ weighed heavily on the necklace on his neck, a size too big for his fingers - Sawada was now followed practically everywhere by Gokudera and three other hidden bodyguards, the Giglionero family had been assimilated into the Alliance and was in debt to the Cavallone. 

Irie Shouichi was a friend of Tsuna's... and an author.

But it seemed that there would always be Gesso, and Byakuran. He had simply gone after a different target, this time.

Hibari let out a long breath, turning back to face Yamamoto. "That Sawada..." he murmured, "Was he shot _here_?" He pointed to a spot on the left side of his chest where, beneath the yukata, a bullet wound stood clear and stark against his pale skin.

Yamamoto stared at the spot Hibari so casually revealed, about three inches down from his collarbone on the left side of his otherwise pale and unblemished chest.

"... I don't know," he finally responded. "The kiddo only told me what I just told you, and then he walked off."

He looked into Hibari's eyes and searched his face. "We'll track down Byakuran."

Hibari pushed his chair back, quickly standing up. The world swayed for a moment, black creeping on the edges of his vision. He blinked hard, biting down on his lip. The sudden pain cleared his vision, and he shifted slightly, leaning his hip against the table as he looked at Yamamoto.

"I don't need you to interfere, Yamamoto Takeshi," he stated calmly.

Yamamoto, predictably, laughed, because even if Hibari was practically dying, he was still so very, well, _him_.

"It's too late, Hibari Kyouya." He stood again, and picked up Gokudera's plate. "I'll be there whenever I can, if you need me. And even if you don't, I'll try."

Hibari raised an eyebrow at him, his lips curling into that was half a smirk and half a sneer. "You really are a busybody, poking your nose into business what was not yours," he said flatly, shaking his head slightly. Pushing himself off the table, he started for the door. He stopped short, a hand at the doorframe as he turned back, eyes impassive as he looked at Yamamoto.

"Do whatever you want."

***

Yamamoto was beaming to himself when he knocked on Gokudera's door. Technically, Hibari just gave him permission to interfere, and although he didn't actually need permission, it was good to receive nonetheless. 

Inside, Gokudera was lounging on his couch, flipping through a novel when he heard the knock on the door. Removing the cigarette from his mouth, he crushed it in the glass ashtray on the table - better not let the Tenth know that he was smoking again. Gokudera knew that it was bad for him, but he had cut down to a pack a _week_ and withdrawal was a bitch.

He looked down on himself - striped blue pyjamas bottoms and nothing else - then at the door. There could only be one person who was supposed to be at his door this time of the night, and that person had seen him in far less. He put down the book and stalked over to the door, pulling it open with a, "What took you so long?"

"Ahahaha, aren't we impatient tonight?" Yamamoto lifted the plate out of the way as he stepped inside, brushing his chest against Gokudera's when the other man barely budged. He took the opportunity to duck his head down, and grinned amusedly when he smelled the baby powder.  

Gokudera shut the door, locking it before shoving his thumbs into the pockets of his pyjamas pants, his shoulders hunching. "I was hungry, idiot," he grumbled, but there was no real heat in his words, not even when he noticed the amusement in Yamamoto's eyes. He _liked_ his shower gels - so what if it made him smell of talcum powder? Yamamoto could go screw _himself _if he didn't like it. 

Or someone else.

Gokudera plopped himself down to a couch, taking a piece of sushi with his bare hands and popping it into his mouth. As he chewed, his thoughts strayed back to the mental Rubix cube that was Hibari and Yamamoto, and the little coloured squares were not sliding into place right. 

"So," Gokudera asked after he swallowed. "Why were you talking with Hibari?"

"Hm?" Yamamoto sat down beside him, popped another piece of salmon sushi in his mouth to buy time.

"We finished a mission together today. He left the meeting room first, and then the kiddo told me to pass on a message." That was true enough he figured. He shrugged. "How about you? How was your day?"

Gokudera's eyes narrowed. Crossing his arms over his chest, he glared at Yamamoto. They'd gone to school together, grown up together, sometimes slept together, and he had known that idiot for long enough to tell when he was lying or, in this case, omitting the truth. 

"My day was perfectly fine; the mission was successful and the Tenth was safe. It was simply _peachy_ until _someone_ chased me out of the kitchen so he could be alone with _someone_ _else,_ and is badly evading a simple question," he stated flatly.

Yamamoto chuckled, feeling skewered. "Ahh," he held up his hands in surrender. "It's not my place to say why I was talking with Hibari. You'd have to ask him, and the kiddo," he grinned. "Why would you need a play by play?"

He leaned forward, staring into Gokudera's green eyes. With a straight face, he asked, "Could it be that you're jealous?" 

Gokudera scowled fiercely at him, his hands clenching into tights fists on his thighs. That baseball freak always seemed to light his fuse with everything he did. He took a long, deep breath. "Who the fuck would be crazy enough to be _jealous_ of that freak?!" he gritted out.

If he was ten years younger, he would have gone on in this vein and started shouting until he ran out of breath. But he had mellowed out enough, grown up enough, to know when Yamamoto was baiting him with another diversion tactic. Not enough to _not_ take up the bait – at least a little bit – but enough to calm down rather than get even more heated up.

He sighed, and his hands relaxed again. "Wipe that stupid smile off your face. I'm just wondering if you've gone crazy and suicidal, 'cause you certainly seem to be, what with trying to pursue him."

"I'm not," Yamamoto replied automatically, his mind going blank. There were plenty of other things he could think of to say, but anything that would make Gokudera understand consisted of... Hibari's illness, which Hibari did not want to be shared around like grapevine gossip. So he just shrugged, "It's not like that."

He reached over for another piece of sushi instead. Heck, he was still hungry after all. And concerned for Hibari. Perfectly understandable concern, if- No.

"You're not going to tell me at all, are you," Gokudera stated blandly. He'd seen the brief flicker of tension in his brow and seriousness in his brown eyes.

Yamamoto seemed to be adamant in keeping it all a secret, and when the idiot got like that, Gokudera knew from experience that it was impossible to try to get anything from him. He would either act dumb or oblivious, or just give that stupid laugh and a non-sequitor.

It was just... odd that he was doing it for _Hibari_, though, because as far as Gokudera was concerned, Hibari was as lovable as a reverse pincushion and anyone who tried to go near the psycho would be tonfa'd to death.

He sighed, throwing his hands up in the air. "Fine, fine, keep your secrets. Just don't come running to me later when you get beaten up by him." Rolling his eyes, he grabbed a piece of sushi and chewed on it.

"Ah, well," Yamamoto leaned back, still smiling, "If he does that then I was probably asking for it." He winked. Gokudera never let him get over the fact that he had once tried to commit suicide, but the reminder was a good thing. It showed that the jerk actually cared, and reminded Yamamoto not to consider such an idiotic thing again.

Gokudera rolled his eyes, leaning back against the couch.

But he was pouting. And Yamamoto knew that his best buddy wasn't going to drop an argument _that_ easily. With his smile easily turning into a teasing smirk, he leaned over, closer. 

"Aw, look at that pout. Now _you're_ just asking for it."

Gokudera opened his mouth to ask what the hell he was on about when Yamamoto dipped down and covered his lips with a kiss.

_Now_ who was the impatient one, he thought, half-amused and half-grumpy. Closing his eyes, his hands reached up to tighten around Yamamoto's shirt. Not to be outdone, by his best friend and rival, he deepened the kiss as the man pulled him closer.

Yamamoto crawled over Gokudera on the couch, wasting no time to turn the kiss French when the fair-haired man all but invited him to do so. It'd been weeks, nearly a month since they last touched base together, what with separate missions of varying lengths.

"Mm..." Yamamoto pulled back momentarily to lick his lips, tasting salad dressing from the California roll Gokudera had eaten earlier. 

"Hey, you taste good with sushi!"

Gokudera stared at him for a moment, incredulous, and thinking, _what the- Why is this baseball freak so _crazy_ and idiotic _even after ten years_? And why do I even tolerate him?!  
_  
He pulled away, breaking the kiss as he growled from the base of his throat, thoughts of Hibari slipping from his mind. "Oi," he whacked Yamamoto upside the head with the heel of his hand, mock-glaring. "If you don't have anything _intelligent_ to say, shut up and just kiss me."

"Haha," Yamamoto kissed Gokudera again, quickly, on the nose, as if to placate him. But for what Yamamoto lacked in intelligence however, he made up for in surprises. "Say," he glanced at the plate which was still quite full. "Ever had sex and dinner at the same time?"

Gokudera stared at him again. "You really _are_ suicidal," he said dryly. Ridiculous non-sequitors... he had already grown to be used to such things from Yamamoto, but still, the inanity annoyed him. "Do you _want_ to choke to death?"

The other man just chuckled in response, reaching over his supine partner towards the plate. "We can go slow... Oh, and don't move." He transferred a couple of pieces onto Gokudera's abs, essentially using him as a plate.

Gokudera rolled his eyes again, eyeing the pieces of sushi on his stomach. Then he looked back to Yamamoto, wryly smirking as he asked, "Is this some sort of weird Japanese fetish that I don't know about?"

"I guess so," came a bright response. "Heard of it before. Just never found the chance to try, ya know?" Yamamoto paused in the middle of moving down, a hand coming to rest against Gokudera's thigh. "I'll stop if it gets too weird for you," he once again reminded his friend. Then, he ducked down and kissed Gokudera's chest.

A fleeting thought: the bullet wound over Hibari's chest...

Yamamoto shoved it out of his head as soon as he registered it, and wrapped his lips around a small cucumber roll, sucking on Gokudera's skin lightly.

Gokudera threw his head back and hissed at the contact, drawing a lip into his mouth and biting down on it. His eyes did not leave Yamamoto, however, and thus did not miss the slight hesitation, or the hitch in Yamamoto's breath against his skin.

"Oi!" He slid his hand into the other man's hair, tugging on it so that Yamamoto would face him. "Who are you thinking about?"

Yamamoto gave him a doe-eyed stare, then chewed his food so he could swallow and answer properly. "... Where did that come from," he managed to ask when he was done.

Of course, he couldn't help but think of Hibari again. He shook his head - just a little, because Gokudera had a nice, firm grip on it - and laughed, "It's not like that!"

"Then focus. On the fuck buddy."

***

The room was soundproofed; the door shut and locked; the windows' shut tight; the stereo on. There was no chance that anyone outside could hear him even if he shouted.

Hibari closed his eyes and sat down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. He placed a tissue over his mouth and took a long, deep breath through it. His hand curled in slightly, crumpling the sheets beneath him. This was almost a ritual, almost calming. Almost-

He finally loosened his control over himself and let the coughs bubble up from his chest and they ripped out of his mouth. He doubled over, the hand not over his mouth clenching white-knuckled tight, eyes squeezed shut.

No one would hear him, much less see him, in this moment of weakness.

No one, but a certain person he still calling 'baby' regardless of the fact that the man was actually older than him.

"If this is your idea of being fine, I'd hate to know your definition of wounded, Hibari."

Reborn dropped down from the ceiling, landing on his feet like a cat. 

Hibari barely heard the remark, but he ignored it anyway, concentrating on stopping the coughs now that yet another busybody had seen it fit to intrude into his space. It took him a few moments to succeed, and when he pulled away his hand, it was almost entirely covered with blood.

He wiped the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand and threw the tissue away, entirely calm and seemingly unconcerned. He closed his eyes. "Shut up, baby," he murmured. "What do you want?"

Reborn barely lifted an eyebrow at the bloody tissue so 'casually' tossed aside. "An interesting report on your last mission just came in," he began. He had a customarily condescending smirk upon his lips, and although his tone was mocking as well, his eyes were serious. "For once, Yamamoto finished with a higher head count than you. Tsuna is even more _concerned_ now with what happened."

Which meant Reborn wanted an explanation.

"Also... how long do you think this charade can go on before someone else finds out, Hibari? Yamamoto is not the only one of my idiot students who would trip over his own two feet for you."

Hibari drew his legs up to his chest, resting an arm on top of his knee. He shrugged, his tone nearly acidic when he replied, "There is no need for them to know. They would simply try to crowd around me and behave as if I am an herbivore in need of protection, especially Sawada Tsunayoshi. I do not need such fussing over, baby."

He closed his eyes and dropped his head onto his arm. There was the slightest hint of a growl, "Yamamoto Takeshi had done exactly that with the mission. He _presumed_ that I would be unable to take out the men on the upper floors and decided to eliminate them _without_ informing me of the change in our plans."

Reborn smirked. "Is that what he told you?" Yamamoto's behaviour towards Hibari had_ definitely_ taken a turn for the interesting. "... But I wasn't asking whether there was a need for others to know. They'll find out when you collapse one day, or if they catch you coughing, like Yamamoto did. Why hide it? They'd only help."

"No," Hibari replied shortly. "That was what happened."

He frowned at the baby's words, lifting his head to look at him in the eyes. "I'm not as weak as that," he stated tonelessly. "It is troublesome enough that Yamamoto Takeshi and you know. I do not need their help - they would only be a hindrance." He was not going to show his weakness to anyone else. He could deal with this alone - he always had, and he always would.

Neither a bird nor a cloud needed anyone else. Hibari was the personification of the proverbial free bird - he refused to be caged, even when it meant healing a broken wing. He turned his eyes away, and sighed.

"Is that all that you've came for?"

"You needed dinner, didn't you?" A rhetorical question. Reborn smirked dryly. "You're one -of the guardians of the Vongola, Hibari. Yamamoto is just doing what is natural - taking care of the _famiglia_. It's just not the way you would go about it."

After all, if Kusakabe was severely wounded, it was a given that Hibari would avenge his own right hand man and look out for the wife and children, even if he didn't do it directly.

"Baby," Hibari's voice was droll, flat. "You're making me repeat myself. I don't _need_ them, much less their help." He brushed his hair out of his eyes, tilting his head and smirking right back. "I'm strong. I can overcome this on my own. I dislike crowds, and herbivores crowding around me even less."

He covered his mouth as he yawned, "I need a nap. Get out."

Reborn simply stared at him, expressionless. "Don't kid yourself, stupid. You're dying." He turned around then, melting into the shadows. "_Because_ you're the strongest."

_TBC_


	5. Chapter 5

**Windshear   
**

Part 5/?

**Authors:** Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
Characters/Pairings:** Yamamoto, Hibari, Gokudera, Reborn. Yamamoto/Gokudera in this chapter. Eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.**  
Rating: **PG-13**  
Words: **5033**  
Summary:** Yamamoto received a wake-up call, Reborn interferes, and Tsuna is convinced to hold an impromptu Vongola Guardian meeting; ensuing chaos predicted.

There was one thing Gokudera hated about his room. Just one. But it was right next to Tsuna's, and as the Tenth's Right Hand Man, Gokudera wasn't really about to voice any complaints.

Past dawn, sunlight _always_ found his face.

Even when he moved the bed around, put up a blind, shut the curtains, the light would somehow filter through, bounce off walls and... It was a conspiracy. He grunted as he lifted a hand to shield his eyes, blinking blearily. Wait-

There was an arm... around his waist.

Gokudera scowled at the offending limb, and wrapped his fingers around Yamamoto's wrist to lift it, but that just made the man behind him _snuggle_ and shift _closer_. The Hurricane Bomber squeezed his eyes shut and took some deep breaths, counting backwards from ten before correcting himself and then counting up from one. It wasn't normal for the baseball idiot to be this clingy, but then... it was still the baseball idiot.

Reaching over, Gokudera shove once at Yamamoto's shoulder. "Get off."

Yamamoto muttered something unintelligible, a protest perhaps as he buried his face even further into Gokudera's hair. But he opened his eyes anyway, and _ugh_; silver hair plus sunshine - ow ow _ow_ - he winced, shoving himself backwards to sit up and out of the rays that so stung his eyes.

They both saw stars when Gokudera tried to sit up at the same time, neither of them looking, and subsequently knocking their heads together. Gokudera snarled beneath his breath, maneuvering so that he could shoved Yamamoto away. Hard.

"Wake up faster, baseball idiot," he grumbled, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "And I said _get off_; I feel gross."

Yamamoto groaned and spared a second or two to look dismayed at the _pleasant_ wake up call that he hadn't received since... high school? "I'm awake," he laughed, "awake, Gokudera!" He half-rolled, half-scampered out of the other man's way, rubbing his aching jaw and forehead, briefly imagining Gokudera's hand print on his face.

He could still see those slivers of silver sunlight that'd been all but burned to the underside of his eyelids. Blinking rapidly, Yamamoto rubbed the tears out of his eyes as well, only to chuckle, "It's just morning, and you're already so energetic."

"You're a lazy ass," Gokudera grumbled under his breath, blithely ignoring the fact that Yamamoto was usually the one to be up and out of the room first for morning exercises. Completely naked and utterly uncaring, Gokudera rolled out of bed. He ran his hand through his tangled hair and grimaced, heading for the in-suite bathroom.

Then, he remembered.

"Oi," he turned back around, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe leading to his bathroom. "You were _cuddling_."

"Ahahahaha," Yamamoto scratched his head sheepishly. "It's funny - I was just thinking how we ended up in that position last night."

He hadn't a clue, really. They hadn't cuddled since the awkwardness of youth when they both decided that getting all lovey-dovey with _each other_ felt just plain weird. Gokudera always turned with his back to Yamamoto when it was finally time to sleep. Yamamoto would then lie on his back and stay on his side of the bed for the rest of the night. On and off, it'd become a comfortable routine. Until now...

Gokudera snorted, giving Yamamoto a disdainful glare that said _you are an absolute moron and should thank me on your knees because I am a saint for dealing with your stupidity on a regular basis_. He sighed, and looked back towards last night.

"You were thinking about Hibari, weren't you?" A pointed statement more than a question.

"...Huh?" Yamamoto's eyebrows went up. He gave a quiet, somewhat confused laugh after rolling the idea of _cuddling Hibari_ in his head. "Gokudera," he had to admit the mental image was not altogether unpleasant, but, "I'm... not _that_ suicidal."

_Oh, really_. Gokudera pushed his hair out of his eyes and resisted grabbing a few sticks of dynamite from the tabletop to toss at Yamamoto's head. He wouldn't have lit any of the fuses - he had more self-control than that - but it would have been a waste of energy. Yamamoto didn't dodge his _firecrackers_ anymore when they weren't glowing and Gokudera didn't want to destroy what little brain cells the baseball idiot actually used.

"And I'm not stupid," he glared, because he could pretty much guess what Yamamoto had been thinking this time. He wiped the image out of his mind with a shake of his head. "I meant thinking about Hibari as in you're concerned about him. Some reason or another, you were holding me so goddamn close, like I was gonna slip away in your sleep-"

The idea of Yamamoto suddenly being clingy _for him instead_ made Gokudera's lips thin. "Far as I know, our relationship hasn't changed and I'm not in more danger than is the norm for any of us, so you aren't abnormally worried about me, _right_?"

Yamamoto nodded, blankly, wide-eyed.

"You are fucking crazy," Gokudera sighed, and threw his hands up. "Of all people, you're feeling protective over _Hibari_...

"Eh, whatever." He stepped into the bathroom, only to paused again. "Just tell me something."

"Gokudera..."

"Whatever it that's going on with that guy," Gokudera looked over his shoulder with narrowed eyes. "Does it, in any way, endanger the Tenth?"

Yamamoto shook his head; that was all Gokudera needed to know.

As the silver-haired man closed the bathroom door behind him, Yamamoto dropped back into bed, letting out a heavy sigh.

Was nothing important to Gokudera if it wasn't about Tsuna?

No, that wasn't fair. He'd more or less told Gokudera he wasn't going to tell him more, and...

Yamamoto stared at the ceiling as the sound of running water began. Gokudera was right; he wasn't stupid. Even though he did not know what was going on with Hibari, he'd hit the proverbial nail on its head. Yamamoto wanted to tell him. Surely, Gokudera could help them find or figure out how to make a cure.

But Hibari... It was Hibari _of all people_, and as Gokudera said, Yamamoto wanted to protect him. Maybe he was fucking crazy. Maybe Hibari didn't need help. And _maybe_ he was going to be all right with some strange disease slowly eating at his lung, killing him from inside out.

With a listless laugh, Yamaoto sat up. Enough of that, he told himself. It wasn't something the Vongola Cloud Guardian would take lying down, and neither should the Rain. The others didn't have to know if Hibari didn't want them to, but Yamamoto knew that, when they all worked together, the Vongola made miracles.

***

Reborn didn't bother knocking. If his students were good enough, they would be able to tell, in any case. Besides, knocking on doors were terribly boring, really, and Reborn preferred to find more unorthodox entrances. Even for him, he needed to keep his skills sharp.

Sliding into the room through the window, he sat at the sill, cross-legged and holding a folder between his fingers. "Yamamoto," he greeted.

The young man placed the remote control on the coffee table, the screen frozen on a frame where a silver-haired swordsman stood smug and poised, smirking towards the camera after his 96th victory. While Yamamoto leaned back against the couch and made to turn towards the window, it took a moment for him to tear his eyes away from the man he once defeated ten years ago, now well on his way to becoming the next Sword Emperor.

"Hey, kiddo," Yamamoto had a wide smile, and when he finally looked at the older man, his bright brown eyes were dancing with pride and exhilaration.

"Haha. Come inside!" He gestured, and then looked down at the folder in Reborn's hands. "Oh," his smile dampened minutely. "Is that for me?"

Yamamoto seemed cheerful, Reborn noted as he jumped down from the windowsill. He padded over to the couch and sank down into it, handing over the file without a word. His eyes lidded slightly as he watched Yamamoto - the smile was genuinely warm and open, and the laughter was as real as it ever was.

That was what he liked about Yamamoto, to be honest. The man knew how to bounce back onto his feet even when something brought him down; never did he let it affect any of his mission, and it was incredibly easy for him to simply _let go_ of his insecurities, to not let it affect him aversely for long periods of time.

Reborn glancing at the paused video. It was a welcome stress-relief, he surmised. What good timing. He let a smirk quirk his lips before turning back to Yamamoto. "Read through it."

Yamamoto nodded, taking the folder and pulling its contents out with the ease of practice. He scanned over names, addresses, and photographs of several doctors and researchers... from the Gesso family. After a period of silence, the only sounds in the room being their light breathing and the friction of paper shuffled against paper, he looked back at Reborn to show that he'd finished reading.

Reborn smiled slightly at him, tipping his hat downwards to cover his eyes. Yamamoto was already sliding into his professional mood - good. He turned away from Yamamoto to look at the wall, choosing his words.

"This isn't an official mission. Consider it a... favor of sorts, Yamamoto," not a favor to him, however. "I'm not going to ask you to assassinate this time - I'm going to ask you to make use of your other talents."

He paused before cutting straight to the chase. He wasn't one to mince words, especially not to a grown man who didn't need it. "Those scientists - I want you to befriend their families and try to get as much information about how to stop Hibari from dying as possible."

"Their families..." Yamamoto mulled over the wording, eyebrows crinkled slightly, his tone perplexed. "Do you mean you want me to befriend them as well as their families, or to avoid the scientists and only get close to their families?

"Kiddo," he looked at his mentor, mild discomfort crawling into his eyes. It was one thing to go undercover to infiltrate mafia families and fight people who meant his own family harm. But it seemed to him that Reborn wanted him to go after innocents this time. Not to kill them, yes, but, "They... might not know anything."

"There might be a chance that they do," Reborn was looking at him now, dark eyes intense and serious and boring into Yamamoto's. "It might be a long shot, Yamamoto, but it's a shot that I'm willing to take." For Hibari's sake; the words hung between them, unspoken but heavy all the same.

Then he looked away again, continuing, "Avoid the scientists. You wouldn't want to be recognized, Yamamoto."

Lips thinning, the Vongola Rain Guardian said nothing. He looked back down at the photos, thumbing one of them as he digested the words. Honestly, he wasn't one to be easily recognized in the mafia world now because it'd been his fault that his father was murdered in _that other future_. The Yamamoto Takeshi in that timeline had been... a bit of a celebrity as a hitman - a real star.

"I won't be recognized," he smiled back at Reborn. "I'll do it."

***

In the training room, Hibari pivoted on his heel and slammed his foot into the chest of one of the computer-simulated human enemies, crushing the ribcage. The man dropped backwards and fell, fading away even before it had reached the ground.

Letting his tonfas drop back to his side, Hibari's eyes closed, breathing through his partly-opened mouth. "Tetsu," he said, and it was almost a conscious effort to keep his words from slurring. "That's enough. You can go now."

Up in the observatory, Kusakabe watched as Hibari walked towards the wall and leaned against it heavily. He looked down at the controls - it wasn't a heavy workout, not for a man like Hibari. Normally, even the highest setting wouldn't have made him break a sweat. He frowned, then shook his head.

Such worrying was useless - Hibari neither wanted or needed it. He nodded sharply, though he knew that Hibari won't be able to see him, and switched off the controls. "Yes, Kyou-san. I'll be in the labs." There was more he needed to investigate.

Predictably, Hibari did not acknowledge those words, pushing himself away from the wall such that he wasn't depending on it to keep him standing steadily. He let out a long, slow breath, his hands clenching into a fist.

This was getting ridiculous.

Especially when Reborn appeared beside him somehow, a _wall_ sliding shut behind him - that baby and his secret back passages... Even without looking up, Hibari could feel the man's eyes on him.

"You'll find this useful." Reborn said. He held out a manila folder with one hand.

Hibari opened his eyes, narrowing them to focus them as he opened the folder. Familiar faces and names stared back at him, and he shut it again, handing it back to Reborn with a shake of his head.

"I have this already."

Reborn made no move to take the folder back. Rather, he shook his head and smoothly crossed his arms over his chest. "These are the people I want you to stay away from," he clarified. "Yamamoto will deal with them; _you_ would be recognized, Hibari."

In an instant, Hibari had his tonfa out and pointed at Reborn's throat, the tendons on the neck standing out as he gritted his teeth. He took a step into Reborn's personal space, and hissed, "I don't need to be _protected_ by herbivores, baby."

Deftly, in a seemingly casual swipe, Reborn caught the end of the metal rod and pulled it aside, slowly but surely as if to prove that Hibari was in no condition to fight him. "Yamamoto is no herbivore," he smirked. "And neither am I.

"You have not become so weakened that you cannot beat information out of these people, I'm sure, but you're not one for subtly, and assaulting their _defenseless_ scientists for a reason you do not wish disclosed will allow the Gesso to openly target you."

Hibari jerked the tonfa out of Reborn's hand even before the older man could finish pushing it away. He scowled darkly, "Only weaklings need to hide their intentions from others. If they want to target me, then they are welcome to."

His smirk was nearly bloodthirsty when he continued, "I will just bite all of those rats to death."

"And be no closer to getting cured," Reborn scoffed, irritation and the mild distain in his eyes hidden behind the shadows cast by his fedora. "The people I specifically want you to avoid have _no interested_ in fighting you at all. They simply made the weapon their famiglia's used on you. We need information from them. Nothing else, Hibari.

"It is a _strength_ to be able to retrieve such a thing without force." With a dry, almost condescending smirk, Reborn looked him in the eyes. "It's not something you can do yet."

Hibari's lip curled up into something that was both self-satisfied and unspeakably angry at the same time. As far as he was concerned, he had been doing exactly what Reborn just said that he couldn't yet. It was that, and because he'd grown enough in the past ten years to realize when Reborn was blatantly baiting him, which kept him from attacking the Arcobaleno. That, and the fact that pain was suddenly blurring his vision - which he would never admit to, of course.

"Ch'," he snorted, stepping back and turning away, heading towards the door. "What do you think Tetsu has been doing?"

"He's been supervising a team in the Foundation that's been trying to hack into the Gesso's heavily guarded servers," Reborn nodded. "Having Kusakabe work behind the scenes is a smart move; his family will remain untouched by the mafia as long as you are alive. So leave Yamamoto to the frontline. You need to be in a secure position so that you can lead your men."

It was no surprise that Reborn knew - he always had a bad habit of interfering into things he didn't want to. Hibari stopped in his tracks, but didn't bother to turn around. "I don't like repeating myself, baby," he said curtly, flatly. "I don't need any of you to interfere with the Foundation, or me. All Yamamoto Takeshi will do is get in my way."

He took a long breath, feeling the air rattle hollowly in his lungs. He smirked slightly, "And so would you."

Reborn didn't like repeating himself. He vaguely wanted to shake some sense into Hibari, or shoot him for being pigheaded; Hibari was dying. He was not an island. He was not invincible. He was certainly in need of help, no matter how much he denied it.

"Hibari. I told you all this so that you will know to stay out of _his_ way. The only thing I'm doing is making sure the two of you don't crash into each other when running after the same target again."

Hibari's lips thinned, and he started towards the door again with sharp, short steps. He pushed open the door.

"As long as he stays out of mine."

***

It was Yamamoto's idea, Tsuna reflected. "We had a reunion _party_, Tsuna, and it was fun, but we didn't all get updated on how everyone's been doing for these past ten years, so let's get all of us Guardians together and do that." So there they were in a meeting room, months after their last reunion. As they waited for the others to arrive, Tsuna peered at the Rain Guardian, curious.

Yamamoto was smiling at something or other, nothing in particular. It wasn't unusual, and yet...

Gokudera slid quite naturally into the seat on Tsuna's right, leaning back fluidly and stretching out his legs. There was an irritable look in his eyes however as he glanced at his watch. "How long do they plan to keep the Tenth waiting?" he grumbled, leaning his head against a hand.

Beside him, with a tiny sheepish smile, Tsuna shot Gokudera with a simple look. "It's okay, Gokudera. I don't mind."

Yamamoto laughed out loud from where he stood, by the sill of an open window that overlooked the back garden. The sky was cloudy, thick, grey and heavy, like it was going to rain soon. And though he could tell Gokudera was thinking something along the lines of Tsuna being a gracious, patient, all-round wonderfully amazing boss, Yamamoto didn't have the heart to poke him out of his rosy bubble, wondering instead if Hibari would deign to show up.

"Excuse me..." A soft voice came from the doorway, cutting through his musings, as Chrome stepped through it. She smiled, standing confident and tall, quite unlike her teenage self. Her long hair spilled over her shoulders, barely restrained by a few bobby pins at the sides. "I hope I'm not too late?"

Even though Mukuro's body was long-freed from his water prison, Tsuna still considered Chrome to be one of his guardians. She was more reliable than Mukuro, at any rate. And less intimidating.

Gokudera snorted, waving a negligent hand at the empty chairs down the long table. "You're earlier than, oh, _the rest of them_." There was no real bite to his sarcasm, because technically, no one was late yet, but they were still keeping the Tenth waiting, and Yamamoto was distracted, and everything was annoying Gokudera. "Assholes..."

"Hey, hey... Calm down, Gokudera," Yamamoto glanced back at Chrome with a playful, welcome smile gracing his lips. "Have my seat, Dokuro. Gokudera won't try to bomb you over Tsuna."

Gokudera gave him a flat glare, then raised an eyebrow.

"I really don't mind the wait, guys," Tsuna repeated. "It's going to rain soon, and Ryohei said he'd _drive_ over." He nearly shivered at the image of his eternally-boisterous Sun Guardian grinning manically behind a steering wheel.

"Um, hello, Chrome." Tsuna cast Yamamoto a curious glance, then looked back at the young woman with a shy smile, "Welcome back. How are you and... the others?"

Taking the seat on Tsuna's left, Chrome set her trident on her lap and answered evenly, "Mukuro-sama is Mukuro-sama. He seemed to be rather preoccupied with his current job, and hasn't spoken to the rest of us for three days now." At the anxious look in Tsuna's eyes, she laughed lightly, shaking her head. "I feel him. He's fine.

"Ken and Chikusa are both fine, too," she continued. "Ken is annoyed at Mukuro-sama's silence, but I suppose he will get over it. Chikusa... is very much himself as well." Her smile turned fond as she turned back to Tsuna. "Thank you for asking, boss."

Tsuna blushed awkwardly at his only female guardian. He was happily engaged to his childhood sweetheart, but it never seemed to stop Chrome - or Mukuro - from a bit of teasing now and then. Nonetheless, he smiled back. "You're welcome."

As Chrome turned her attention inwards, Tsuna sighed internally, relieved. He glanced back towards Gokudera, and found him eyeing Yamamoto with a pensive frown.

Yamamoto wasn't paying attention to anyone in particular either. That was another thing that got Tsuna thinking. Normally, Yamamoto and Gokudera played off each other like a stand-up comedy duo - at least in Reborn's eyes. Tsuna sometimes wondered if their bones got mixed up in past lives and they thus had a lot of karma to collect from one another.

But lately, Yamamoto's been more preoccupied, and subsequently much _much_ harder to read. The fact that they weren't stepping on each other's toes or having a verbal ping pong match over Tsuna's head said something.

Tsuna just didn't know _what_.

But before he could dwell on it any further, someone slammed the door open and stormed in with a great, "Whoa! Sasagawa Ryohei has arrived _just on time_!"

And lying in the doorway, teenage Lambo sported a large shoe print on the back of his curly-haired head.

Gokudera reacted instinctively as the Vongola Sun Guardian came barreling in like a bull that had just spotted a red cloth. Placing himself between the two of them resulted in the Tenth's Right Hand Man being head-butted in the stomach by the Tenth's future brother-in-law. Tsuna winced, verbal squeak and all; Gokudera clenched a fist, smacking Ryohei over his spiked-up army cut on reflex.

"Fucking watch where you're going, lawn-head!" Gokudera blew up. He hadn't yet gotten over waking up on Ryohei's lap since their last reunion, before Bianchi threw her shirt in his direction and Yamamoto dragged him out. Ending up in another compromising situation with Ryohei however, right now, on the floor and _in front of Tsuna_ did not make him feel any less molested. "Charging in like a bulldozer," his ass hurt, and he was nearly spitting nails. "You could've injured the Tenth, dumbass!"

Most of the pain of landing on his butt was pushed to the back of his mind as he shoved at the older man. One had to adapt with Sasagawa Ryohei, unless one was called Sasagawa Kyoko or Hibari Kyouya. And Gokudera was rather too busy pouring his frustrations - with baseball idiots and antisocial freaks, not to mention dumbass lawn-heads - out onto the thick-skinned man to dwell on physical discomfort.

Chrome ignored the ruckus beside her and slid out of her chair, padding towards the youngest of the guardians, who was now sitting up, tears in his eyes. She pat him absent-mindedly on his curly hair, asking, "Lambo-kun? Are you quite alright?"

Lambo bit his bottom lip, eyes almost bugging out as he told himself to tolerate the abuse, but he didn't dare say it out loud. Who knew when and where Reborn would pop up?

Over the years, the older hitman finally started moving on from Tsuna to make sure the rest of the guardians were up to standards. He finally paid Lambo some attention, and if Lambo was caught crying, oh boy...

Between teary-eyed Lambo, and the train wreck that was Gokudera plus a very wet Ryohei - who obviously drove over in a convertible - Tsuna squeaked and attempted damage control.

"Guys, um-"

Ryohei jackknifed from the slap to his temple, looking _impressed_. "That was an _extreme blow_, octopus-head!"

Tsuna had a sinking feeling in his gut as, behind him, Yamamoto started laughing. Ryohei's eyes shone as he clasped Gokudera's hand. "Coulda been _better_," he exclaimed excitedly, "but you're doing good for mid-range fighter!"

Gokudera's anger flared visibly.

Shaking his hand free, he grabbed a fistful of wet orange shirt and black tie, tugging Ryohei down to growl low. "I've trained in close combat too, you one-trick kangaroo. If you don't get off of me, I'll show you better. Now, quit _dripping_ on my suit!

"And you!" Gokudera pointed an accusing finger at Yamamoto, "Quit laughing, baseball idiot; it's not funny!"

"But it is! Hahahahha!"

"Guys!" Tsuna wanted to tear his hair out as his Storm Guardian's self control - or what little was left of it - flew out the window. Dear gods, it looked like he was going to lose his Rain Guardian too. If Yamamoto laughed any harder, Tsuna was sure he'd be the next to take a dive, whether he fell out the window or Gokudera threw him out!

Chrome smiled serenely, completely unperturbed by the chaos around her. She was used to Ken, Chikusa and Mukuro-sama after all. She had experienced stranger phenomena.

Lifting her eyes, she nodded politely when another man stepped through the door. "Good afternoon, Reborn-san," she chimed, standing to step aside.

The hitman tutor smiled at her, removing his fedora in a gentlemanly fashion, holding it over his chest as he bowed. "The same to you, Chrome." Reborn then turned his eyes towards Lambo, still sitting on the floor, with undisguised distaste and amusement. After a moment, he smirked ominously and prodded the boy with the toe of his boot. "Get up."

"Ah!" Lambo sniffed back a whimper and scrambled to his feet. He positively burned with embarrassment, and tried to laugh it off as he tugged his shirt back in place. "Haha-you're late," he managed with false bravado. Reborn promptly looked away again, ignoring him once more.

But then again, there was no way in hell that he could insult someone as fully as the pros going at it with each other in the room.

Ryohei had managed to pry Gokudera's fingers off, one by one, and now stood over him with an earnest, reassuring expression that almost looked smug. "Trust me, squid face. I've got more than one trick under my belt. You've got potential, but you've still got _extremely_ bad form."

Gokudera's jaw dropped, and, "Oh, hey guys!" Ryohei finally saw the three standing at the door.

Chrome offered a sweet smile and Lambo rubbed the back of his head, looking away. Reborn simply put his hat back on, tipping it down over his eyes as though he was actually nodding.

"Ryohei!" Tsuna cut in before Gokudera could formulate a scathing reply. "Hi! Sit dow- have a seat! I mean," he had a strained smile on his face and it only grew wider when he suddenly pictured his future brother-in-law running around the base with the flu. "I'm- I'm glad you could make it. Why don't you go change into a set of dry clothes while we wait for uh Hibari-san!"

And while Tsuna wasn't looking, Yamamoto nearly did fall over the ledge, because he'd looked away in an attempt to stop laughing, only to halt, mid-laugh and stare out the window, stance going tense. The awkward cut-off made everyone fall silent.

Yamamoto turned fully towards the window, his hands falling from around his stomach to grip the window sill. His brows were creased, his mouth was slack and his eyes were riveted on something outside.

Without warning, he jerked around and went out the door, a dark scowl crawling over his face.

Gokudera watched as Yamamoto practically stormed out of the conference room, his own anger temporarily dampened by the Rain guardian's uncharacteristic behavior. Was there an assassin? _Nah_- What? He nearly ran over to the window, looking down.

And rolled his eyes. No _wonder_ the baseball idiot ran off.

"So he finally decides to grace us with his presence today," he muttered, but there was no acid in his tone. "Hibari's here, Tenth. From god-knows-where."

If it weren't for those words, Tsuna would have dashed out after Yamamoto. Instead, he skid to a halt, narrowly missing Reborn, who probably would have side-stepped, though here he hadn't moved an inch. Thus, Tsuna collided into Lambo.

"Wha-Ah?!"

"Oof!"

Lambo cringed, one eye winced shut as momentum pushed them against a wall. The rest in the room could practically hear his internal mantra: _Tolerate_. But he pushed Tsuna back at arm's length after a tense moment and tried to figure out what just happened.

"Mr. Happy-Face ran down to bring Mr. Bite-You-To-Death up here?"

Tsuna just looked up at him, baffled. "But -" And then Gokudera's words sank in. "But Yamamoto looked mad!" Tsuna exclaimed.

Meanwhile, Reborn gave a mental chuckle at Lambo's nicknames for the two Guardians; the boy never failed to amuse. He reached over, and whapped Tsuna's silly head. It was easier now that he was taller than the boy - and he would always be a boy to Reborn, simply because he was his student.

"Silly Tsuna, watch where you're going," he berated with an even tone. Then, he turned around and whapped Lambo as well. "You too, stupid cow. Be more alert."

Reborn crossed his arms and shrugged slightly. "Let them be. Yamamoto will bring Hibari up here at any rate, so we might as well just settle down and wait."

_TBC_


	6. Chapter 6

**Windshear   
**

Part 6/?

**Authors:** Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
Characters/Pairings:** Yamamoto, Hibari, Gokudera, Reborn. Eventual Yamamoto/Hibari, hinted Byakuran/Mukuro.**  
Rating: **PG-13**  
Words: **5700**  
Summary:** Yamamoto, Reborn, and those herbivores were crowding. Mukuro was a freak. Hibari's impatience reached its peak as his body reached its limits.

As Yamamoto hurried down the stairs, he only paused by the Vongola mansion's main entrance, in front of the umbrella rack. He grabbed a black one, anyone's, and then headed for the door to the back garden. By the time he saw Hibari, the man was still walking through the greenery, leisurely, as if admiring the Florentine Irises that were drooping mournfully and yet so spectacularly against their spiky-silvery-green foliage like they were drowning in the rare downpour. Small and utterly drenched, Hibari looked so _delicately_ beautiful Yamamoto actually swore beneath his breath.

Hibari barely even seemed to notice the rain. From Yamamoto's perspective, the other man was acting as though the sun was shining brightly like most any typical Italian afternoon. Only, it was Hibird, huddled in Hibari's suit jacket - which the man held _bundled up in his arms_ - that indicated any acknowledgment given towards the weather. Otherwise, the small crease between his brows said the rain simply inconvenienced him.

_What's wrong with you_, Yamamoto nearly cried out loud. But there were plenty of things wrong with Hibari; he knew. So he ran over wordlessly with the opened umbrella - what warmth could he offer, whether it was accepted, if they both grow ill? It wasn't until he stopped in front of Hibari that he realized he - had ran all the way over - was feeling out of breath.

Hibari blinked, when, all of the sudden, the rain stopped and there was someone in front of him. He looked upwards.

He greeted Yamamoto calmly and wordlessly with an incline of the head. He gazed upwards at the umbrella for a moment before pushing it away from him. Ignoring the other man, he continued his stroll through the garden.

Yamamoto let out an exasperated sigh and sheltered Hibari with the umbrella again. Lifting his freehand, fingers gently pushing Hibari's fringe back, he pressed a palm over Hibari's forehead.

"You're cold and clammy, Hibari. Do you know that?" It was breathed out. Any louder, and he would have yelled it in frustration.

Hibari snapped a hand out to grasp Yamamoto's wrist, all but slapping the other man's hand away from his skin in a bruising tight grip. With dark, burning eyes, he said, "Don't overstep your boundaries, Yamamoto Takeshi."

But Yamamoto ignored the pain, his eyes hard and his lips drawing in a thin line. "Why should it matter? You don't seem to care about your own body anyway." Walking in the rain when he was sick. Rain couldn't hurt him on its own, but it was cold. He was soaking wet. His immune system was already fighting something else inside, something that was a far cry from a slap on the wrist.

_What the fuck are you thinking?_

Hibari's lips quirked up into an amused smirk, and he let go off Yamamoto's wrist. That man... he really was a wolf in sheep's clothing, so much that he probably believed himself a sheep. Hibari shook his head, turning his attention back to Hibird as it poked its head out from under the collar of his jacket and flapped its wings again.

"You seem adamant to butt into business that is not your own." Hibari raised his eyes, his smirk widening. "It is just rain. It will not affect me."

The other man shook his head in response, but his eyes softened as the yellow bird flew up and around them under the umbrella.

"... You're already soaked," Yamamoto pointed out, but he was slowly being disarmed by Hibird's happy little twitters and the amusement on Hibari's face.

"Come on, let's get inside so you can change." Yamamoto sighed, the corners of his lips quirking up into a wry smile. He couldn't help but feel tag-teamed; knowing how intelligent that bird was, and that it had somehow pledged its loyalty to Hibari... the chirping was probably deliberate.

"Don't want you to catch a cold either," he grinned cheekily at the bird.

Nodding, Hibari quietly followed Yamamoto into the mansion, the two of them halting briefly as Hibird flew into Hibari's jacket once more.

The moment they stepped indoors, the yellow bird flew freely again. It spread its wings, shook itself to get the residue drops of water off its feathers, before taking off for the ceiling. Hibari seemed impassive, but his eyes followed the extra-fluffed-up ball of feathers for a long moment, unmoving.

"I'm going to have a shower," he told Yamamoto curtly, turning back to the man. "Tell them to start this meeting without me."

"All right," Yamamoto nodded, relieved he didn't have to fight the other man into the shower. He'd lifted a hand to wave, but then, what use was it when Hibari had already turned his back? He closed the umbrella, fiddling with the strap for a moment longer, and then returned the umbrella to the place where he found it.

When he was walking back down the corridor to the meeting room, Hibird landed on his shoulder, twittering a strangely familiar marching melody that had to be _some_ anthem or other: grand, upbeat and romantically hopeful. Snippets of Italian came to Yamamoto and he laughed when he realized _of course_ it was the Italian national anthem; Hibird _would _have picked that up after all these years.

By the time they arrived at the meeting room, he was grinning at Hibird's high-pitched rendition, and humming along.

Gokudera whipped his head around when he heard the massacre of "Inno di Mameli", an insult on the tip of his tongue. He was irritable from his row with Ryohei; he had to change his clothes because the lawn-head had _no concept_ of personal space, and dumbass had the balls to call his fighting ability into question.

Gokudera was _not happy_.

But far be it for him to take it out on a bird. "Oi, baseball idiot," he grumbled. "Where's Hibari?"

"Ah?" Yamamoto blinked at the slightly damp silver hair, the crisp, clean red shirt and dry black pants. He chuckled, then looked around as he answered. "Hibari went to take a shower. He thought he didn't need an umbrella... Sasagawa's gone to change, too?"

"Yeah," Gokudera pulled a hand through his hair, shaking out stray water droplets as he sourly continued, "Thinks it's always a tanning day 'cause he's the Sun Guardian, or something. Slow bastard... Getting _me_ wet enough to change too, and here I am!"

"Hahaha," Yamamoto's innocent smile was curling into a teasing smirk.

"Tsuna," Reborn cut him off. "Start the meeting now. Your guardians have pretty much all arrived."

"Oh, right," Tsuna straightened up as Gokudera's attention returned to him. As Yamamoto took Chrome's usual seat, Tsuna glanced at Reborn with an openly questioning look before he turned back to meet everyone else's eyes once more.

"All right. This isn't supposed to be a formal meeting, everyone." Hibird chirped suddenly. Tsuna paused, and then resumed when it landed on the back of Hibari's usual seat. "Yamamoto mentioned earlier how the party was fun, but we didn't get a chance to really talk to each other about what we've been doing for the past year or so, right? So this is... a review reunion."

Yamamoto nodded, smiling brightly as he added, "We worked hard and successfully prevented the formation of the Millefore. Now what?"

"Um..." Beside Gokudera, Lambo hesitantly spoke. "I know this is supposed to be an informal meeting, but... is there going to be another threat to the Vongola?" He played with his hair subconsciously, curling a lock round and round his finger, looking bored, but feeling nervous.

Reborn steepled his fingers and leaned forward, looking at all the Guardians - even Lambo - one by one. "The Millefiore was made up of the Giglionero and the Gesso families," he began. "The Giglionero, we know, are of no threat thanks to Dino taking Lady Uni under his wing. They are now part of the Vongola alliance... and as they have been alerted, they are keeping a close watch on their Phantom Knight."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Yamamoto was rubbing his jaw in phantom _pain_. Reborn noted it, but smoothly continued, "It is the Gesso family we should be concerned with."

Any residue of anger or resentment in Gokudera bled away at Reborn's words, and he sat up straight, eyes narrowing as the gears in his head started moving. "Why, Reborn-san? What are they doing?"

Reborn shrugged, turning to Chrome. "I think Mukuro would be better equipped to answer this."

Chrome folded her hands in her lap and shook her head, "Mukuro-sama didn't tell me about anything going awry. He and Byakuran-san seemed to be getting along very well." She did not blush as she remembered the little asides and reports that Mukuro had given her, detailing he and Byakuran's... sexual exploits. It was already commonplace for her, these things.

"If you want further information, I can call Mukuro-sama for you, Boss," she turned to Tsuna, throwing the ball into his court.

"That..." Tsuna rubbed his nose, looking from Reborn to the rest of the guardians, and back at Chrome. "That might be for the best, if he's not too busy?" She did say that he hadn't contacted them on his own for over three days - while being with Byakuran...

Just what the hell was he doing with Byakuran anyway? Tsuna knew Reborn had something to do with it, but honestly, he wasn't sure he wanted to know...

"AND I'M BACK!" The door slammed open and shower-fresh Ryohei stood in the doorway, looking good and still too energetic even in a smart, pressed suit. It didn't gather as big a response to when he barrelled in however, so he just stomped over and settled down beside Chrome. "So what did I miss?"

Gokudera's temper reared its head again, and he scowled fiercely. He wasn't a teenager anymore, however, and the ten years between then and now had taught him enough self-control to not blow up at the dumbass - at least... in front of the Tenth _again_.

But it seemed like the idiot had learnt pretty much nothing. Gokudera dropped his head onto a hand and sighed. "Sit down and shut up, lawn-head," he grumbled. "Tenth is just asking Chrome to contact Mukuro for a report on the Gesso."

Surprisingly, Ryohei listened, and turned his eyes to the young woman beside him.

Chrome had already closed her eyes, ignoring the ruckus around her as she reached inside herself to find that glowing red thread that linked her to the male Mist Guardian. _Mukuro-sama?_

_Yes, my dear Chrome?_ The answer was instantaneous, but that didn't give much away - Mukuro-sama could talk to her during practically anything. He was a _great_ multitasker.

_Are you free right now? Boss wants to talk to you..._ She could feel Mukuro's interest perk at that, and a strange sensation, like the world tilting off-kilter before righting itself, ran through her body. Mukuro was looking through her eyes.

_Oh...? The skylark sent a representative? ...What does Tsunayoshi-kun want to talk to me about?_ Mukuro sounded amused.

_The situation with Byakuran, Mukuro-sama. Boss wants a report on what we have all been doing so far, about the Gesso family. Hibari-san will show up in a bit._

Mukuro chuckled. _Kufufufu... So Tsunayoshi-kun wants to check up on me, hmm? Alright then. May I, my dear Chrome?_

Chrome smiled slightly. _You're always welcome to, Mukuro-sama._

And the world _shifted_.

Chrome watched as her hand grew suddenly larger, her shoulders broader and leaner, bleeding down into Mukuro's lanky build. Her clothes, too, changed - a suit jacket with customized lapels on the shoulders, a loose tie, white shirt, and dark slacks. Long blue hair tamed properly in a tail rested over one shoulder.

"Kufufufu..." Mukuro laughed again as he surveyed the table, this time out loud. Turning to the Vongola Tenth, he made a show of licking his own lips and lecherously smirked.

"Long time no see, Tsunayoshi-kun..."

"Hibari!" Hibird cried.

Hibari, dressed in a customary dark yukata and now more or less dry, rolled his eyes when he saw that, for once, it was the detestable half of the Mist Guardian that had decided to grace the occasion. _Wonderful._

Almost as if he heard Hibari's thoughts, Mukuro's eyes turned towards him, shamelessly running up and down that toned body with the tantalising hint of pale flesh bared by the yukata. But... something seemed off to Mukuro. "Aah, has the skylark finally decided to return to the nest?"

Hibari ignored him with the ease of long practice, quietly gliding into the room to take his seat, now curiously next to Yamamoto. It was... less annoying than sitting next to Mukuro, so he said nothing of it.

Reborn watched Hibari from under the brim of his hat, his eyes heavy-lidded and lips thinned into a line. It had been two weeks since he had that talk with Hibari in the Cloud Guardian's own room, and the stubborn man seemed as determined as ever in keeping his condition a secret from Tsuna and the rest of the _famiglia_.

He sighed and turned his attention back to the others; he had done all that he could to help Hibari - that is, all that Hibari was open to. Forcing Tsuna and Dino into unwanted situations _for their own good_ was one thing, but teaching Hibari was another thing entirely.

Hibari needed to learn that he could depend on others - outside of his school, outside of his hospital... and outside of his Foundation. Yamamoto was adjusting, adapting his ways to support Hibari unobtrusively. Mukuro... was another story altogether.

Yamamoto couldn't hide the concern on his face when he saw Hibari in just a yukata. A quick glance around the room and he found his jacket slung over the back of... the chair Mukuro occupied.

And when he did that, something clicked in Tsuna's head. "Um... yeah, it's been a while, Mukuro." Tsuna nodded. Oh so carefully, as unobtrusively as possible, he reached for Yamamoto's jacket. "H-how have you been doing? Mukuro..."

But Mukuro noticed the movement right away. He turned and picked up the black jacket, cradling it in his hands. "Oh, Tsunayoshi-kun, is this yours?" He lifted the cloth to his nose and took a long, deep inhale, taking care to moan softly.

He blinked.

"Aah... It doesn't smell like you, though," he tilted his head to the side, the picture of innoccent curiosity save for the mischievous glint in his eyes.

In his mind, Chrome giggled.

Gokudera took a few seconds. To recover. Deep breaths. They were not working. "Y-you _freak_!" he sputtered. "What is _with_ you and your perverted ideas about the Tenth?! Just how would you even know what he smells like?" He wanted to reach over and shake Mukuro by his fancy lapels, because Tsuna was straight as the horizon and, at the moment, cringing back into his seat away from both of them. "I mean- _no_! Don't you answer that!"

Apparently, taking deep breathes only gave his lungs more ammunition to work with. "God, baseball idiot, _burn that jacket_!"

Ryohei laughed. Not only did he find Tsuna's reaction reassuring for his sister's sake, but Gokudera's was hilarious, extreme to the max.

Yamamoto had the strongest urge to introduce his face to his palm, but he let out a chuckle instead, shoulders drooping. So much for even _thinking_ of offering Hibari his jacket. Not that the man would have accepted it either, especially with so many people around to see it, but...

Hibari picked up the glass of iced water in front of him and took a calm sip. Mukuro simply did not exist in his world - he rejected that... thing's existence.

...Hibari was not on friendly terms with Mukuro, was he?

Yamamoto stood up, leaning one hand his weight against the table with one hand as he held his other hand out towards Mukuro. "So can I have my jacket back?" He smiled naturally. Tsuna looked at him with wide, grateful eyes.

"Unless you _like _the way I smell now..."

So much for damage control.

Tsuna's eyes positively bugged out, and Reborn could read his silent cry like it was a fluorescent billboard, bright and blinking over his head: _there's such a thing as being _too_ friendly, Yamamoto!_

Lambo sank further down in his seat as he tried not to watch whatever the hell was going on, and failed. He could never figure it out, really; some days, Gokudera and Yamamoto looked like they_ didn't_ have some sort of dysfunctional relationship. Today was not one of those days.

Maybe what they had was an open relationship. The two of them stuck together often enough, but then they also seemed to take a lot of breaks away from each other, so maybe they both suffered from attention deficit disorders. Or... they just _liked_ having regular lovers' spats so they could... make up. Lambo cursed his teenage hormones.

It was hard _not _to wonder though, why they weren't even sitting together today...

Briefly, the same thoughts crossed Mukuro's mind. He eyed Yamamoto with a small, playful smirk curving up the corners of his lips. Without a glance at Gokudera, or anyone else, he toyed with the sleeve of Yamamoto's jacket, lifting it to his nose again.

"Mm... a little muskier than Tsunayoshi-kun..." he nibbled on a lip, until it was swollen and red like he had just been kissed.

_Careful, Mukuro-sama_, Chrome warned in his mind. _I don't like bleeding_.

Mukuro laughed, his red and blue eyes fixed upon warm brown. "_I like it._ Can I keep it?"

Hibari set down his water glass with a loud _thud_ that echoed throughout the meeting room. Oddly, Hibird was the only one who didn't look at him with some degree of shock. With his eyes narrowed and hands clenched around the handle of a tonfa, Hibari growled, "What have I been called here for, Sawada?" His voice was low and rough, as dangerous as a field of knives. "If all of you insist on playing games, I'm going."

"Hibari," Reborn tilted the brim of his fedora to expose his eyes. "This is important. Stay for a little while more." It was not a request.

Hibari turned to him, then back to the others, his lips curling up into a derisive sneer, "Mukuro. Shut up, and answer Sawada's question."

Mukuro tilted his head, mismatched eyes almost mocking. "What's this? The skylark finally acknowledges my presence? My, my, I'd never thought that I'll see the day." He clucked his tongue, sounding like a disapproving mother hen.

_Mukuro-sama..._ Chrome said in his mind, full of reproach. Mukuro shook his head, tapping on the swollen lip in contemplation.

"But how am I supposed to answer the question and shut my mouth at the same time, Hibari?" He tutted lightly, a quiet mockery.

Gokudera's fingers itched for dynamite sticks. He answered before Hibari could, his voice tight and angry and serious. "Don't waste our time, Mukuro. Answer the question."

Mukuro sighed like a wronged victim, all but pouting as he plopped back into his seat. Yamamoto, he noted, had a strained smile on his face now. Poor boy. Mukuro knew he'd been trying to keep the peace. But please one, annoy another - and a few others in this case - that was something he'd have to learn to deal with on his own.

How very interesting though... that _Hibird_ was giving Yamamoto the evil eye, too.

Chuckling, Mukuro pressed the jacket back into Yamamoto's hand and turned back to Tsuna, smiling sweetly all the while.

"I'm sorry, Tsunayoshi-kun, but what was your question?"

Gokudera growled.

"The Gesso," Tsuna interjected. "Could you please tell us what's been going on with Byakuran-san, Mukuro?"

At the question, Mukuro frowned. He ran a hand through the long tail of his hair, and sighed, his expression strangely serious when he glanced over at Reborn, who simply nodded.

Satisfied that the man was going to talk, Hibari's eyes slid shut. He sat down and leaned back heavily on his chair, the one tonfa he took out disappearing back up his sleeve, and into its cache again. A hand splayed on his chest and clenched around the material of his yukata.

Who cares if Reborn seemed to keep secrets with everyone? Hibari breathed...

"Byakuran-" Mukuro let out a long, deep sigh, "Byakuran is a very careful man."

Yamamoto fisted his jacket underneath the table. Beside him, Hibari's breath sounded disturbingly shallow and laboured. He found himself staring at the cup Hibari had slammed on the table, now empty and cracked.

"He practically lets nothing slip," Mukuro was saying. "The headquarters is quiet, with everything going perfectly normally." He leaned forward on his hands, "If I'm as paranoid as Gokudera-chan here, I might say that he is definitely up to something. But I'm not. Byakuran _might_ be - there's no sign that he is, but with that man, such things are hard to tell."

Gokudera growled at the jibe, but did not pursue it. There were more important things at stake, especially when, "Basically, you don't know anything."

"Oh, I know plenty," the Mist Guardian shot the Storm Guardian a bored look, then pointedly turned his gaze towards the man sitting between them. "I know that their drug trade had increased again and they are getting more dependent on it; I know that Byakuran added child prostitution and male prostitution to the Gesso's list of little side businesses; I know that he had order 37 hits this month, and half of them were of his own people." Mukuro's voice was almost contemplative, with barely a hint of contempt. "But there's nothing that would-"

"Mukuro," Hibari interrupted him. He was sitting up, eyes piercing. "What sort of drugs are they selling?"

_Now_ this was something strange, Mukuro noted. In fact, Hibari didn't bother to attend meetings normally, and if he did, he sat at the window and barely listened, much less spoke. Today, he spoke not once, but _twice_, and once in which he actually came close to losing his composure.

How very odd and unlike the skylark. How very interesting. Mukuro tilted his head, scrutinizing him as he answered, "I'd never thought you'll be interested, Hibari." He chuckled lightly, "Kufufu... Well, they sell cocaine, marijuana, opium, heroin... all plant-based, all cultivated by the Gesso themselves. That's it."

Reborn sat up straighter. Now that- that was interesting. "Mukuro," he said. "Had Byakuran been cultivating new hybrids or anything like that lately? Or even around five months ago?"

Mukuro shook his head, his smile wry. This almost felt like an interrogation. "I wouldn't know. He trusts me less than he can throw me."

Hibari closed his eyes and pursed his lips, leaning back against his chair. Useless, all of it.

"So the Gesso make their own drugs..." Yamamoto felt the need to reiterate, and ask, "All of it? ...And why all those hits on his own people? Have you heard anything about there being traitors in their midst, or... if those people might've gotten their hands on some information Byakuran doesn't want leaked?"

Hibari shot a glance at Yamamoto, an annoyed glint in his eyes. He didn't _need_ anyone else to interfere, and yet... the other man had asked some valid questions. So he didn't say a thing, simply closing his eyes and waiting for Mukuro to answer.

Mukuro clenched his jaw for a moment. Now this was something that he hated to admit, but he was terribly proud of his skills in manipulating people and conversations, in getting them to trust him completely - just look at Lancia, poor bastard. But Byakuran was certainly giving him a run for his money. He tugged slightly on his long ponytail, the only outward indication of his frustrations.

Chrome laughed slightly, _But you like your games with him, right, Mukuro-sama?_

_I do, my Chrome,_ he replied, lips twisting into a small smirk. _But even those games get tiresome after awhile._

Aloud, he simply sighed. "That's what I'm _trying_ to find out, Takeshi-kun. Byakuran is very... hm, _uptight_ with his information, you see, and no one else in the Gesso base seems to know what he's thinking."

After all, Mukuro had, ah, _asked_ everyone he could get his hands on. "All I can answer right now is that those hits... they were scientists. Biologists and chemists, or both. All of them died by _accidental causes_," he made quotation marks gestures with his fingers he spoke.

"Byakuran is definitely trying to hide things? I take it you are interested in his... obsession with flowers?"

Gokudera chewed on the inside of his lip. First of all, it seemed almost completely out of character for Hibari to take such an interest in their meetings. And for Yamamoto and Reborn to speak up as well... it was a very, very strange combination. Although it might just be his own paranoia speaking, but the three of them were in on something...

Something that probably didn't endanger Tsuna _yet_. While Gokudera still couldn't find it in himself to trust Hibari fully, he knew that both Reborn and Yamamoto would rather stab themselves in the heart before harming a hair on Tsuna's head.

Yamamoto had stated it quite vocally, once, and Reborn... well, only someone who was blind, deaf, and completely idiotic would miss how much the man actually cared for the Vongola Tenth.

Tsuna barely caught up with all that information, vaguely horrified that child prostitution had been brought up so lightly, and met with little to no response. Ryohei looked troubled, frowning, his brows creased with confusion. But everyone focused so quickly, so easily on something else...

But they always had reasons, especially Reborn and Hibari, who never spoke more than what they thought was necessary. And even Yamamoto was asking about the Gesso's drug trade. That said the three of them were after specific information. And they weren't ready to share yet.

_Fine. _Tsuna looked at his other guardians carefully.

Lambo looked like his regular, sleepy self, but he still had one eye open, so he was definitely paying attention, but it was more like he was studying something he didn't really want to understand. Ryohei... wanted to understand; he had that determined look in his eyes, which said he was thinking hard. And Gokudera was running a hand through his hair, lips pursed like he wanted a cigarette badly.

Their eyes caught as Tsuna was staring. And although, sometimes, if Gokudera knew something important, he'd keep it to himself 'so as not to burden the Tenth,' this time, those silver eyes just seemed apologetic - for _not_ knowing.

Tsuna smiled to him and looked back towards Mukuro.

Mukuro was... being honest for once, not talking in circles as often as wont, meaning that he himself still considered business with Byakuran as something of a serious threat. And rightly so, after what happened between those two in the other future!

_That's it. _"Mukuro..." Tsuna sighed, deciding that it didn't matter if they didn't tell him anything - he'd still help however he could. "If you don't know the answer to some of these questions that we're all asking, it's okay." Hesitantly, he reached out and touched the other man's arm. "Please be careful... when you try to look into them later."

After another moment of silence, Mukuro chuckled slightly, shrugging and untensing his shoulders as he leaned further into his seat. "Thank you, Tsunayoshi-kun. It's nice to know that you care~" His voice had a teasing lilt to it, and he gave Tsuna as much of a princely bow as he could while sitting down.

_Mukuro-sama,_ Chrome suddenly said in his mind, sounding rather thoughtful. _Do you think this might have anything to do with the cottage that you told me Byakuran is building in Rome?_

Mukuro blinked, _You remembered that?_

_I remember everything you tell me, Mukuro-sama,_ her tone was so matter-of-fact that it made him smile.

_I... haven't thought of that. I'll check out the lead soon._

Tsuna caught the fleeting look of surprise in Mukuro's eyes then, and opened his mouth to say something, except Yamamoto beat him to it, leaning forward and thrusting and elbow on the table.

"Mukuro..." He sounded slightly impatient, but even that was surprising.

In fact, it even made Ryohei surprised enough to blurt out, "All right, what exactly are you looking for, Yamamoto? You too, Hibari. The questions you're asking - it's like you know something the rest of us don't, which is extremely suspicious!"

_Finally_, Reborn smirked. He felt faintly relieved. It wasn't enough to cure Hibari, but he'd been starting to wonder lately, whether the other guardians would _ever_ notice...

Before Yamamoto could think to reply however, Hibari stood up abruptly, eyes narrowed and blazing. His knuckles were white around the edge of the table, and there was a fine sheen of sweat over his skin, making him seem even paler than usual. His lips curled into a sneer as he looked at all of them, then turned the full force of his glare on Yamamoto.

"It's _none of your business_," he said through gritted teeth. Gritted not because of rage - though it did play a part - but because of the sheer, overwhelming pain and vertigo that was making the edges of his vision white out. He clenched his other hand tight and forced himself to stop swaying - if he _was_ swaying. His chest felt like it had been set on fire on the inside, but he held the blaze in even as it colouring his world red and black and white.

This time, Hibird flew up and about him, frantic, as if that would calm him down. But Hibari just growled.

"You bunch of herbivores..." He gasped, "When will you learn to leave me alone?" He took another breath, about to say more, or just stalk out. Then his _traitorous, weak _body decided to rebel against him, and not even his willpower could stop it as he doubled over and started to cough.

Reborn closed his eyes and looked away. He didn't need to see what he had long expected to happen.

There was a great thump as Ryohei's scrambled to his feet, his chair crashing down backwards from the sudden movement. Regardless of Hibari's attitude, Ryohei had always considered the other man a close friend. It was a shock to the system to watch as his knees simply gave out.

Yamamoto caught him first.

After all, Yamamoto had been right there, beside him. And was holding him now, so protectively. It was especially frightening how Hibari couldn't even seem to muster up the strength to push the man away...

"Reborn!" Tsuna cried, "What is this?" Because who knew any better? Hibari was in no shape to explain, and Yamamoto was ... Yamamoto was being bled on!

Not for the first time, Lambo felt like a completely useless guardian as he watched dots of red bloom across Yamamoto's shirt, seeping into blue threads.

Gokudera just stood there beside him, eyes wide and hands clenched, nails digging into his palm. "What the- What the hell is going in?"

His first guess was tuberculosis, but Hibari owned a hospital, for heaven's sake, he would have gotten treatment if that was the case, and the rest of them would have been none the wiser! Gokudera swore when it hit him: "Byakuran..."

_Byakuran?_

Amidst the chaos, Mukuro remained seated, but his eyes were wide, as if he could only stare. He had seen death a million times over; he had seen men being beheaded, disembowelled, cut to pieces, smashed, strangled, suffocated, drowned... any way a _creature _could die, Mukuro had seen it, some of which through first-hand experience.

Death did not surprise him. It was simply that...

The sight was strangely beautiful: Hibari's pale, narrow face, eyes squeezed shut and gasping; the paleness of his hand against the Rain Guardian's suit and the stark red of blood; Hibari's red, red lips, coloured by blood until it resembled thick, smudged lipstick. He could only admire the aesthetics of it.

_Mukuro-sama_, Chrome's voice, the voice of reason, echoed in his mind. _I think you have to work faster._

He closed his eyes. Hibari wasn't supposed to die, much less be the first of all of them to succumb to death. He was "the Strongest", the immovable, seemingly invulnerable rock. Even after Mukuro thought he had broken Hibari thoroughly, the boy - they were only in middle school back then - had still been able to fight while _unconscious._

_Hibari Kyouya isn't supposed to die like this..._

"Tsuna. Everyone," Reborn said tightly, his jaw clenched. "I will explain, but call the Vongola doctors first. And the doctors at Namimori. Hibari's personal ones need to be brought over." He did not turn around.

In fact, he couldn't quite look at anyone at that moment, because _damnit_, after all their efforts to change the future, it only seemed as though they had succeeded in exchanging Hibari's life for Tsuna's, which was just as unacceptable.

Behind him, Hibari gasped for air, lips moving, with nothing intelligible coming out. But Yamamoto was close enough to hear him. Hibari was telling him to let go.

Yamamoto shook his head. Having long mastered the art of rejection, it came easily.

Hibari's world swam in and out, threatening to disappear entirely. He couldn't fathom why Yamamoto was apologizing. Couldn't think.

His clean hand clenched feebly around Yamamoto's shirt, finding no purchase. He tried to pull himself up but he had no strength, no _breath_. His toes curled, trying to find footing on the floor to no avail.

His lungs heaved, air shuddering in his ribcage as heavy, shuddering coughs wrecked through his frame. Red was all that he saw; red was all that he felt. Pain, overwhelming and consuming and though Hibari Kyouya had the will of one who was more than human...

His body was still human, still fallible. Slowly, his fingers relaxed from their grip, and he let his eyes slide close. A long, hollow breath escaped out of his raw throat, and he simply...

"Hibari...

_"Hibari!"_

_TBC_


	7. Chapter 7

**Windshear   
**

Part 7/?

**Authors:** Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
Characters/Pairings: **All the Vongola Guardians, Reborn, and Tsuna. Byakuran/Mukuro, implied Mukuro-Tsuna, eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.**  
Rating: **PG-13**  
Words: **3352**  
Summary: **The rest of the Guardians found out about Hibari's condition. While Mukuro revealed more than intended, Byakuran could not help but return the favour.

Tsuna stared listlessly at his open palms. Fisted them. Relaxed his fingers again. He would have been pacing the corridor outside of the medical wing if Gokudera wasn't already doing that for him. Granted, he wouldn't have been ranting and swearing beneath his breath the way Gokudera was, but he felt just as confused and frustrated, and far too _tired_ to stay on the move when there was nothing he could do but wait for the doctors to come and _explain_-

"What the _hell_ is going on, doc?!"

Tsuna looked up.

One of the doctors just appeared and Ryohei now had him by the collar. "Hibari's sick to the extreme - _I know that_ - but sick with _what_?! Is he okay? Is it _curable_?"

Tsuna stood immediately, but Reborn had already stepped forward, placing a hand on Ryohei's shoulder, his fedora still shielding his eyes.

"Calm down, Sasagawa Ryohei." The statement was more of a command than a request. Reborn eyed the doctor, a small, mousy man, who looked relatively calm despite the fact that Ryohai literally had him on his toes. The badge on his crumpled white coat read Nakamura Kenichi. _Ah, one of Hibari's_.

"How long does Hibari Kyouya have, Nakamura-san?"

"...If he's lucky, I'd say two weeks." The doctor tugged at his sleeve, not meeting their eyes. "It's a miracle that Hibari-san was even walking at this stage. One of his lungs had completely shut down, and the other one's already forty percent broken down."

Nakamura, over the years, had grown rather used to the strange quirks of Hibari and the Foundation, but this... the involvement with the Vongola famiglia, and these boys - he remembered when they were kids, when they running around and constantly getting beaten up by Hibari or someone else during their high school years - this really took the cake.

The fact that the gentleman in the fedora seemed to know about Hibari's illness before the rest of the doctors even opened their mouths was unsurprising though. He seemed to have spies everywhere; Nakamura wouldn't have been surprised if the baby that they used to carry around was some trained mafia member too.

And come to think of it, it'd been a shock when that Takesushi boy - a young man in the mafia now, he reminded himself - approached him with regards to Hibari's situation. But Reborn's presence reminded the doctor; goodness, Yamamoto carried that mafia baby around a _lot_.

And hung out with a half Italian, half Japanese punk who... was staring at the doctor at the moment, wide-eyed, the cigarette that he'd been chewing now on the floor.

"His lungs _what_?!"

"Are rotting away," Nakamura answered, exhaling heavily like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. "I don't know the cause or the reason, but his lungs had been breaking down cell by cell, going into a state much like hibernation. They've just become... unworkable." He pulled on the sleeve again. "Simply put, he's slowly being suffocated to death, much like someone with lung cancer."

Gokudera stared at the cigarette on the floor, tobacco on his tongue, and his throat closed up.

"He..." Tsuna bit his lip, not seeing the cigarette, barely noticing why Gokudera froze as he stared at the poor man who had practically ben abducted from Namimori, "Hibari-san doesn't smoke. Or do anything to... Wait," things weren't making sense in his brain, "he _doesn't_ have lung cancer?"

Beside Tsuna, Ryohei nearly growled out loud in impatience, but he knew he needed to hear this. He needed to calm down as Reborn _not quite suggested_ so he could figure out what he could do. But his hands were clenched into tight fists. Hibari's his friend; Reborn noticing something was wrong with Hibari - that was one thing, but Yamamoto noticed as well, and Ryohei himself _didn't_.

What kind of a friend was he?

Lambo scooted away from the fuming man, biting his lip slightly. Gokudera was no better though, staring at the cigarette on the floor in horrified silence. Against his better judgement, Lambo reached out, past them, and tugged on the bottom of Reborn's sleeve.

"Y- you know what's going on, don't you?"

Reborn didn't turn to look at Lambo, but he saw the reflection of his damnable puppy eyes on the glass door behind the doctor, and let out a long breath. Closing his eyes, Reborn nodded. He shoved his thumbs into his pockets, and then looked up to the ceiling.

"Hibari has something more complicated than lung cancer." With a bitter smirk and eyes as old as death, he turned to face Tsuna. Nakamura said Hibari had two weeks... Did they really just exchanged one life for another, in the end?

He so hated the taste of failure on his tongue.

"It was the Gesso," Reborn said abruptly. "A biological weapon that they had just developed. Approximately five months ago, Hibari was shot in the left lung," out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nakamura nod in confirmation. He waved the man off then. The doctor returned to work, quickly escaping the hallway.

"The bullet was removed and the wound healed, but then, his cells started to break down. That bullet was coated with _something_ - perhaps a virus, infecting all the surrounding cells so they started to die, and it just spread from there."

He took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. If it was anyone else but Reborn, some might say that he seemed to look almost defeated. "In the future we changed..." Reborn sounded bitter, so bitter. "Tsuna was shot by the same bullet. He didn't last this long, though." A soft chuckle, and he turned to look at the door that hid Hibari - and Yamamoto, who'd refused to leave his side - from their sights.

"That silly Tsuna asked Hibari to kill him."

"But Gamma," Gokudera blurted out, "that world's Gamma said that the Tenth had been gunned down!" His hands clenching at his sides. They had done so damn much to try to change the future, and yet, _no_- He ground his teeth together, trying to calm down.

"Did you really think that Byakuran would tell the Giglionero the truth?" Reborn countered flatly. "Tsuna _was_ gunned down, in that world. They saw him shot. He just... died a little bit later."

For a moment, not one of the Vongola famiglia seemed to be able to breathe. Tsuna tried to move his mouth, make a sound. He croaked something out, and forced himself onwards, "_Iiit-_ It's because I'm heavily protected now that Hibari-san was targeted instead."

He looked around, at everyone's faces, and swallowed heavily. "We need to find Byakuran then. We need to talk this-"

"_Talk_?" Ryohei was incredulous, nearly spitting the word out. Lambo quickly retracted his hand, letting go of Reborn to get out of the Sun Guardian's war path. "What was there to _talk_ about?" Ryohei cried, "_He shot Hibari_!"

Gokudera's had similar sentiments. He wanted so badly to just blow something up, preferably the entirety of the Gesso, but mostly Byakuran. He wanted to hit something, anything, just to erase that image of Hibari, pale as fresh fallen snow, with shiny blobs of blood all over his mouth and hands, silent and unmoving in Yamamoto's arms. Gokudera might be intelligent, but he was a man of action first and foremost; he wanted to _do_ something, so that he could get that hopeless, helpless feeling off his chest.

He took as breath. "The Tenth is right," he said, head down and his silver hair obscuring his eyes. "We can't just charge in, lawn-head, because that bastard's most likely hidden the cure somewhere," _if there was a cure at all_, a small voice in his head said, and he squashed it immediately. "If we talk to him now, we'll catch him off guard. "

Chrome, who had been leaning against the wall, almost a shadow beside Tsuna, finally lifted her head to voice her thoughts.

"Mukuro-sama once told me, around a year ago, that Byakuran was building a cottage in Rome, for a _secret_ reason, that man had said." Her hands were clenched white around the trident. She hugged her arms to herself. "Mukuro-sama's gone to try to get as much information on that place as he can, now."

Hibari had saved her life, once, and perhaps they were friends, in the sort of way that people like them made friends.

"Reborn-san," she frowned slightly. "Why didn't Hibari-san tell us?" _Why didn't he let us help?_

Reborn placed his hat back onto his head. "Hibari is stubborn even when he knows that he's dying - he refused to accept, much less ask for help from anyone, believing that he could overcome it by himself." There was no disdain in his tone, only regret. He shook his head, clearing it, and when he spoke again, it was directed at Tsuna, "Get Byakuran's location from Mukuro and arrange a meeting as soon as possible."

"Ah," Tsuna nodded, and looked at Chrome uncomfortably. "You're telling him all this right now, aren't you?"

Chrome nodded.

"Good." But what if Mukuro couldn't find out in time, or endangered himself like last time? That wouldn't do either. Tsuna took a deep breath. "And I'll contact the Gesso. Even if I can't find him in person, they wouldn't keep my looking for him a secret from him. In fact... If I do that, he'd find me himself."

Gokudera worried at the packet of cigarettes in his pocket. "Tenth," he started. "I'll contact them for you, in your name. It's... they're targeting _you_." He tugged at the ends of his hair, unsure of how to phrase it. "We... don't want you to be put into danger."

Tsuna shook his head. "I don't want anyone else in that position either." He was pointing without looking towards the door Nakamura had exited from, behind which lay his dying Cloud Guardian, and his distraught Rain Guardian. "Not for my sake, Gokudera. Everyone. Not for any reason."

***

Mukuro had to fight to keep from smiling. This was what made him loyal to _Sawada Tsunayoshi_ - not the Vongola, not the Mafia. Just Tsunayoshi-kun. Because here was a type of strength of will and selflessness that he had never encountered before in all the lives that he remembered. He had never before met someone who was so willing to devote his entire life to protecting others, and at the same time have the kindness to forgive his enemies and protect them as well.

It was so incredibly naive of the Vongola Tenth, and if it was anyone else, he would have been dead long ago. But somehow that man had the strength to back that resolve up - strength enough to decimate whole Families and yet he didn't, using it only to protect.

Mukuro couldn't help but adore Tsuna.

Quietly, Chrome gave him a mental nudge and reminded him to hurry. Hibari had two weeks left. How _surreal_. Mukuro sat up in bed after a moment, and none too soon.

"Mu. Ku. Ro. Kun~"

Byakuran was smiling as he waltzed inside his 'subordinate's' room. There was an airy bounce in his step, like he was high on something again. Something deceptively similar to illegal substances, but more likely just a played-up sugar rush - unless he'd stepped into one of his labs earlier for a spell. The man seemed incredibly pleased with himself, Mukuro noted, perhaps almost to the point of being willing to share?

"How is my Mukuro-kun today?" Byakuran's smile was frozen like it could have just been painted onto his face. "I heard you _zoned out_ a little earlier... Is everything all right?"

"Byakuran-san~" Mukuro sang right back, shoving his unease and slight worry to the very corner of his mind and burying it under fields and fields of bright, happy flowers. Just completely Byakuran's style, in case the man decided to skim his surface thoughts. The smile on Mukuro's face was wide and happy and incredibly _didn't_ look fake.

"Everything is just perfectly fine!" He laughed, flopping backwards to lie on the bed. "I was thinking about you..." He chuckled, reaching forward and hooking a finger around one of Byakuran's many belts, pulling him forward. "You seemed particularly happy today, did something really good happen?"

"Hm?" There was a sly gleam in Byakuran's violet eyes. He tilted his head, eyes staring straight into Mukuro's and right through him as he considered, half-kneeling onto the bed. "That depends on what you consider really good now, doesn't it, Mukuro-kun?"

He seemed to turn his attention away from the topic as he dipped down, brushing a hand through Mukuro's hair and stroking his cheek like a connoisseur inspecting a pretty doll for cracks. "But you look pale." There was far too much concern in his voice, melodramatic. "I do hope you haven't been overextending yourself."

Mukuro ran a too-gentle hand through Byakuran's rough silver hair, tilting his head back and looking at the other man through heavy-lidded lashes. He arched his back slightly, the other hand fisting around Byakuran's sleeve. "Please don't worry about me, Byakuran-san," he said, a coy murmur, and smiling shyly. "_You've_ been working so much lately..."

He leaned forward, dropping his head on Byakuran's shoulder, as if for comfort, and added in a deep breath for good measure; Byakuran always smelt too strongly of flowers, and it nearly made Mukuro gag, _but whatever floats his boat_... "And your definition is my definition. You know that, Byakuran-san. "

Bright sparkly laughter bubbled from the other man's throat. Byakuran settled down on the edge of the bed, one leg crossing over the other. "Mukuro-kun~" He gently wound the other man's ponytail around his gloved fist. "You know I don't like it when people lie to me... correct?

"Ordering more hits for that reason can be so very _depressing_."

Despite his words, Byakuran's face remained serene. Mukuro knew he was treading on dangerous territory here; the more sincere and gentle Byakuran became, the more prone he was to simply stabbing someone in the throat. It was a warning, one that very few people received, and even less understood.

Mukuro felt vaguely flattered that Byakuran liked him enough.

"But Byakuran-san~" He mimicked the light tone, mismatched eyes dancing with something more akin to amusement than apprehension. Showing fear in front of Byakuran was like deliberately cutting yourself in shark-infested waters - he'd seen it happen with others; it was suicide.

"You do the same thing yourself, or rather, you omit the truth," Mukuro pouted slightly. "Aren't we always playing hide and go seek? ...Are you hiding something from me _this time_?"

_What are you_ not _might be a better question_, Mukuro thought to himself, wry.

Byakuran grinned impishly, pressing a soft kiss to the hair in his grasp. "You know me so well, Mukuro-kun...

"Do you know how many people used to tell me that's it's very dangerous?" He held his gaze for a long moment, unblinking. "What should I do when I start hearing things again?"

Mukuro patted his cheek. He should have known that Byakuran wouldn't answer his questions, and wouldn't let go of his own. Such a child; one with far too much power in his hands.

He smiled like an indulgent mother in response. "Take a vacation, maybe?" He tilted his head to the side. "We can have a Roman holiday, Byakuran-san~"

"Hm?" The corners of Byakuran's lips quirked up at the suggestion. "Mmm," he nuzzled Mukuro's palm as he nodded slowly, "I was thinking of cherry blossom viewing actually." Byakuran offered the man a knowing half-lidded gaze, "It has such a short time frame, don't you think? ...But we can do both." He chuckled.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

***

The next day saw Byakuran lounging on his armchair in a hotel in Rome, his legs hanging over one arm. On the plane last night he had received a call from Sawada Tsunayoshi, requesting a video conference. He had glanced at Mukuro for a moment, and wondered how the Vongola Tenth had known that he was at all involved when he had taken absolute care to let Mukuro know nothing about the _real_ importance of the flowers he bred.

The fingers of one hand tapped on Mukuro's thigh, the other hand picking up an orange wedge and sucking the juice from it. He licked his fingers, the picture of decadence.

He swung his legs almost playfully, tilting his head back to peer at the man beside him.

"Mu. Ku. Ro. Kun~" His voice was light and lilting. "When is the Vongola Tenth going to call back?"

Mukuro, sitting on the arm of the couch, chuckled lightly. "Wait just a little while more, Byakuran-san~ You're as impatient as ever."

Byakuran raised an eyebrow, tugging a little on Mukuro's belt. "Aah, Mukuro-kun, I'm a little bored, that's all..." As if on cue, the screen buzzed softly and flickered to life.

The Vongola Tenth was in his office, dressed smart and proper, with Reborn standing behind his chair on his right...

Before he started the video conference, Tsuna knew that he'd need to wash his eyes out as soon as it ended. Mukuro was draped over Byakuran's chair, leaning into the man like a... trophy. Tsuna's cheeks colored.

"Byakuran-san. Mukuro." He cleared his throat, and shied another glance toward his Mist Guardian, and then looked back at the white haired man, a disturbed but definitely unhappy expression upon his face. Briefly, Tsuna prayed to any listening deity for strength. Then, he opened his mouth again.

"Hibari-san collapsed recently. We've traced it back to a bullet to the lung, a specially coated bullet that came from one of your family's guns. Please tell me you have the cure, and that you're willing to negotiate." He really didn't want to fight the man again, not that Byakuran was aware there was a first time, but _there_.

That was it.

Mukuro smiled.

As expected, Tsuna was no pushover as the Vongola Tenth. There was strength behind those gentle eyes that looked like heated amber, yet none of its softness showed. A normal man might have just caved from his stare alone.

But Byakuran was not a normal man.

His violet eyes were cold and emotionless, but a smile still curved his lips. He sucked lightly on his finger, licking up the remnants of the orange juice. When he spoke again, he was smiling so widely that his eyes were slits.

"My, my, you want to _negotiate_ for the cure?" He chuckled lightly, "All right then, I'm game."

He tapped his lips, looking contemplative and obscene at the same time, and leaned back against the couch. "I don't want your life in particular. Wouldn't know what to do with it..." He turned to Mukuro, still smiling that wide, empty smile. "Perhaps I should ask for your Mist Guardian instead - he's such a fun playmate for me, you see." He curled a hand around the end of Mukuro's ponytail. "We have such... scintillating conversations."

He tossed his head back, laughing, and Mukuro's answering smile seemed as sincere as the one on his face when Tsuna first met him.

Byakuran shook his head, turning back to face Sawada through the monitor again. "Or maybe I'll ask for the shiny trinket on your middle finger, Vongola Tenth. And the pretty _pendant_ that your _tutor_" - he made the word sound as vulgar as 'whore' - "has around his neck."

"There are many, many pretty things from your collection that I find negotiable, Vongola Tenth."

When Tsuna didn't say anything for a long moment, Byakuran tilted his head to the side, then lowered his voice as if to confide. "Video conferences... take away some of the... hmm..." He waved a hand in the hair, as if searching for the perfect words, "_personal_ connection from face-to-face conversations, don't they? So bland, so empty!" He leaned forward, until he was almost nose-to-nose to Vongola in the video.

"So why don't you _all_ take a _Roman holiday_?"

_TBC_


	8. Chapter 8

**Windshear   
**

Part 8/?

**Authors:** Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
Characters/Pairings: **All the Vongola Guardians, Reborn, and Tsuna. Byakuran/Mukuro, eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.**  
Rating: **PG-13**  
Words: **4544**  
Summary:** As Hibari slept, the Vongola prepared for a visit to Rome. Gokudera does not resist opening a can of worms on Yamamoto.

"All of us?! That _flower_ wants _all the Guardians_ in Rome?!" Ryohei slammed his fist against the table. Hibari was in a coma! "Oh, I'll give him my ring, all right," he growled, "when I crack open a can of woop-ass _on his face_ _and bury my knuckles in it to the limit_!"

"Guys, just-"

"You're saving some for me, lawn-head!" The explosives were already between Gokudera's fingers, his temper sparked like a lit fuse. "I'll stuff that fucker like a _turkey_-"

"Just stop- I said _stop_!"

Tsuna, tears welling up in his eyes, held his hands over his ringing ears until everyone shut up at last. "Declaring war on the Gesso won't save Hibari-san," he finally said. "So please..."

As Gokudera fell silent, Tsuna turned to Ryohei. Lambo, bit his lip, looking between them. Gokudera and Ryohei were always so loud. But honestly, he didn't blame them - if he had been the type to shout and throw a fit, he would have done the same.

Instead, he could only feel helplessness welling up in his chest. Like everyone else, he didn't want Hibari to die - the man was scary, but he had protected Lambo and I-pin whenever he could, and let them run around in his garden as long as they didn't give him any trouble. And well, Hibari was part of Lambo's family, so of course the boy wanted to help as much as he could.

He looked at Reborn, thinking of that file the older man had presented him earlier, outlining an 'unofficial mission,' which looked like it had been tailored for someone else. Lambo had a sneaking suspicion that he knew whose mission it used to be, but _that_ person was...

Lambo sighed, reaching out to place a hand on Gokudera's shoulder. "Vongola's right, Gokudera-nii," he only used that name when he really needed the Storm Guardian to listen. "If we just go after him, I don't think we'll ever be able to find the cure."

Reborn shot Lambo a rather surprised look which went unnoticed. That... was precisely what he was going to say. Perhaps the stupid cow wasn't quite so hopeless, after all.

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, silently watching his students deal with this crisis.

"Lambo-kun is right," Chrome said softly. "From what Mukuro-sama had told me, I don't doubt that Byakuran had probably hidden the cure in a place that only he knows of. Even if we declare war on the Gesso... we won't have the time to find it."

"But..." Gokudera looked at them all, his hands almost shaking as he fought for restraint once more. "Tenth, I'm sorry for the outburst!" Sticks of dynamite slid fluidly back in to wherever he pulled them from before he stuffed his hands deep in the pockets of his pants. "But we can't let that crazy bastard get away with this," he grit out, turning his angry gaze downwards.

Images of white flowers and the younger Tenth's scared, innocent face flashed through his mind. Gokudera thought of the open casket, of Tsuna sitting up in it, confused as to why he was there after being shot with Lambo's bazooka, and that desperate war they fought against the Millifore ten years ago. The very thought that history might repeat itself like that...

"What does that guy want with all of us there _this _time then," Ryohei cut in, "if not for an extreme battle for ultimate power?!" He couldn't even believe his ears when Tsuna showed them the video conference. Especially the bit about Byakuran_ not_ wanting the Vongola Tenth dead.

_...It's no good_, Tsuna thought. He didn't know how to respond. For all his training, for all their anger and past efforts, he didn't know what to do except to just wait for Byakuran to state his terms, and then respond. He opened his mouth, "I don't-"

Reborn had already started walking over before Tsuna could finish making a statement of hopelessness, and slapped him upside the head. Lambo winced. Reborn was as mean as ever, even towards Tsuna, he thought. Or rather, _especially_ towards Tsuna, because his eyes were cold as flint now, arms folding across his chest.

"Stupid student," Reborn said flatly. "Don't ever say you don't know what to do - you're the boss."

Then, he exhaled - not quite a sigh - and pulled his hat down to cover his eyes. "Believe it or not, I don't think Byakuran wants to kill us. Not now, anyway," his voice was dry. "During the conference, he mentioned the Sky ring and this," he tapped on the yellow Arcobaleno pacifier hanging over his chest. "I believe that what he's looking for right now_ is_ the Ultimate Power, like he was in ten years ago's ten years later."

Ah, time paradoxes, Reborn thought, only half-fond. It made language so convoluted.

"Regardless of your lives, he wants all of you there for your Vongola rings - that's what I believe he'll ask for. However," he tilted his head up, glaring at all the guardians. "Under no circumstances can we give them to him. Not even at the cost of Hibari's life."

Silence.

Before the door was flung open.

And the man who stood in the doorway, with eyes sharp as knives and long limbs drawn tense, was the Vongola Rain Guardian, who was scowling at Reborn, completely incensed.

"Y-Yamamoto," Tsuna gasped and stumbled from the table, instinctively putting himself between the two. Despite the fact that the back of his head was still ringing from his tutor's slap, the anger in his friend was practically palpable, like rushing, rippling waves.

Gokudera was in front of Tsuna in an instant however.

"Oi, baseball idiot," he thought quickly, pushing the Tenth back. "How is he? Hibari-"

"Hibari's dying," Yamamoto spat out, glaring daggers at Reborn. "He's comatose. He is not going anywhere."

_Well_, Reborn thought to himself, a smirk curving his lips slightly, _that was certainly a dramatic entrance_. Despite their age, they still felt like children to him, to be so easily affected by mere words. But he supposed that the will to protect each one another was what made them so extraordinarily strong.

And yet they were still so foolish.

Gently pushing both Tsuna and Gokudera aside, Reborn stepped in front of them to face Yamamoto, meeting the glare straight on, his posture relaxed, hands unclenched. Even if Yamamoto had the Shigure Kintoki drawn, Reborn would not have felt intimidated. He eyed the young man, coldly amused.

"What makes you think you are in any position to demand that Hibari stays put, Yamamoto? Let me give you the alternatives: one, we do not go to Rome, and wait here quietly for Hibari to die; two, we wage war on the Gesso, and Hibari dies because we can't win and find the cure within two weeks; or three, we let Tsuna go alone and have history repeat itself, but this time Hibari dies as well."

He took a step forward. "I remember several occasions in which the chances of success were less than one percent, and yet we had overcome it and triumphed. The odds are still against us this time, because Byakuran is holding quite the wild card, but - you aren't so stupid - you should know that already."

He let out a breath. "Raging against me will do nothing. It will not stop Hibari from dying. For that to happen, we have to take that first step and listen to Byakuran's demands." He ran a hand through his hair.

"It's called looking for alternatives before you leap, foolish students. Not charging in and hoping you don't run off a cliff."

For a tense, silent moment, there was a war waging in Yamamoto's eyes, and everyone in the room seemed to be holding onto a collective breath.

It was so rare of him, outside of baseball, outside of a serious fight, to be in a spectacle without a smile on his face or a sparkle in his normally bright eyes.

But the bags under those brown eyes told them all that he hadn't been sleeping well since Hibari's sudden collapse. Truth be told, none of them slept well, but the Rain Guardian had barely left the Cloud Guardian's side. He ate in the hospital wing. He dozed lightly. Frankly, it was a good thing that Reborn had pulled Yamamoto from his missions. No matter how good of a hitman he might be, he couldn't shut_ everything_ off right now.

Gradually, the hard scowl on his face wavered, revealing fatigue and faint traces of depression underneath.

"Byakuran's demanding that we all go to Rome, but we can't do that... Hibari is in no condition to move, or to be moved," Yamamoto reiterated, eyebrows creased. "... Right?"

"Wrong." Reborn shook his head immediately. "It _is_ possible - we have a couple of helicopters fully equipped with medical equipment, the same stuff that we have in the medical wing, even. We have a sub-base in Rome that we can stay in. Moving him isn't a problem."

Chrome's eyes suddenly snapped wide open, and she stepped forward. "Everyone," she spoke, nearly cutting Reborn short. "We have to be very careful in Rome. Mukuro-sama... says that Byakuran had found three out of the seven Mare rings. Including..."

A breath. Her grip tightened around the trident. "Including the Mare Ring of the Sky."

"Heeeee~" Tsuna gasped, "He can't! The Giglionero-" He looked at the ceiling abruptly, lamenting the fact that they hadn't done enough, that they definitely missed something at this rate, but _breathe. Breathe. _

Ten years ago, when they'd all finally return home, to their own present, he sought out Irie Shouichi, not to kill him, but to become friends. The guy had a brilliant mind, an idealistic vision, and Tsuna wanted to understand him better - and make sure that they wouldn't set off the chain of events that led to the formation of Millefiore.

For the most part, they were successful. Reborn even sent Mukuro to Byakuran when the man gained control of the Gesso family, to keep an eye on him, and from what Tsuna could tell... Mukuro rather liked the Byakuran of this time...

_How he got his hands on those rings are the least of our problems,_ Tsuna reminded himself, then reasoned out loud.

"Yamamoto has a point. If he just wants our rings, he doesn't need all of us to be there... It'd be dangerous to move Hibari-san now. It's a miracle that he's still..." He trailed off. The doctors estimated that Hibari only had about two more weeks if he was not cured.

Tsuna blinked suddenly. "But if we're all there, and Byakuran gives us the cure," he looked at Yamamoto earnestly, half-pleading, "then we can give Hibari-san the cure immediately!"

"And if we have to beat it out of him, so be it!" Gokudera pumped a fist in the air with characteristic bravado as he continued, "We need to bring Hibari with us."

He glanced back at Yamamoto, and looked away, adding, "For Hibari's sake. Not for that fucking flower."

Ryohei stood up, "I'm with you on this one, octopus-head! Sawada!"

Lambo looked at Yamamoto shyly from behind his messy hair, smiling nervously. "Vongola is right, Yamamoto-shi." He tugged on a lock of hair, "Well, um... We don't know what Byakuran would make us do, and he might make us wait. It'll be better if Hibari-san is transferred, so he can... get cured as soon as possible."

Chrome's eyes were hooded when she spoke. "Yamamoto-san... We all care for Hibari-san here. We won't let him come to harm." She gave him a small smile. "Don't worry about that."

Yamamoto stared at them, into each of their open faces. In the shadows, Reborn said nothing, hiding behind his fedora and his smile. Yamamoto opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Instead, silent breath forced its way out. The corners of his lips twitched.

"Haha... Looks like I was being silly... Everything will work out one way or other. It always does, doesn't it?" It didn't take hyper intuition to see that he was trying to pull a smile on his face.

It looked painful.

***

Afterwards, Tsuna dismissed them, telling them to pack and prepare; they were heading to Rome at dawn. Gokudera packed easily. He practically lived out of one suitcase or other anyway, given how often he travelled due to his missions.

He headed for the medical wing right after he finished, knowing that he would find that baseball- no, _lovesick_ idiot there.

As expected, Yamamoto was leaning against the doorframe, watching the doctors prepare to move Hibari. It was such a strange sight. Yamamoto didn't acknowledge him when he leaned against the other door, and Hibari... Gokudera had never seen the Cloud Guardian look so utterly _still_ - even when in meditation, Hibari always had that certain air of anticipation and power around him. But now... now he simply looked like a pale doll.

Sighing, Gokudera turned to Yamamoto. "Oy, have you packed yet?"

A second later, Yamamoto tilted his head, and turned to look at him. "Oh. Hey, Gokudera." He looked back towards the doctors. The small, sheepish smile on his face said he'd more or less calmed down. "What are you doing here?"

Gokudera growled softly under his breath, rubbing his hand through his hair as he gave Yamamoto one of his soon-to-be-patented _are you so stupid_ stare. He sighed. "I asked you if you packed. We _are_ going to Rome tomorrow, you know."

"I know, I know," Yamamoto simply replied. "I just want to see what needs to be prepared. Just in case..." His laughter was hollow. It felt like the medics were making so much noise. If Hibari was all right, he would have pulled out his tonfas and intimidated them into silence, Yamamoto thought.

Gokudera rolled his eyes, huffing impatiently. He stepped forward and punched Yamamoto lightly on the shoulder. "Do you think you're a doctor or something? Idiot. They can do their job perfectly well - the Tenth won't accept anything but the best for Hibari, you _know_ that." He pulled at his arm, "So stop being stupid and go pack your bags already."

"Ahaha," that laugh was better. "You sound like somebody's grandmother." He dragged his feet a little, glancing back until Gokudera pulled him out into the corridor.

Immediately, Gokudera glared at him for the _almost_ insult, irritated. Yamamoto wasn't even doing it deliberately - smashing all of Gokudera's buttons just seemed to be one of his many _natural_ talents...

Gokudera crossed his arms, still walking towards their rooms. "I'm trying to help you, baseball idiot," he grumbled. "If I hadn't come along you would stare there until the Tenth tells us that we have to go, and you wouldn't have packed at all."

Yamamoto didn't argue the point. He never argued the point, and he always, _always _laughed.

Well, almost always.

He smiled though. "Thank you, Gokudera. i don't really have a lot to pack though," he continued. "It's just for a weekend _holiday_, isn't it?"

Gokudera snorted, looking up as they reached Yamamoto's room, to the left of Tsuna's. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "Hopefully," he said, sounding frustrated and just slightly apprehensive. "We have no idea what Byakuran is going to do, after all."

The mention of Byakuran made Yamamoto's smile fall flat. He kept his gaze straight, not quite seeing anything. "I'm going to pack," he finally stated. "You're done, right? Do you want to train when I'm done?"

The other man watched him for a while before heaving a deep, long-suffering sigh. "Oi, Yamamoto," he looked up and caught Yamamoto's eyes with his own green ones. "No one is going to blame you if you stop smiling for a while, you know? You don't have to force it if you don't feel it."

He pushed himself away from the wall, turning away and shoving his hands into his pocket. "I'll wait for you in the third training room."

"... Sure. I'll see you there."

As Gokudera walked off, Yamamoto's face turned expressionless. He took a step back, half-turned, and made for his own room with a silent sigh. No one would blame him for not smiling. He knew that. And it seemed that even Hibari preferred it when he wasn't smiling either.

Yamamoto pressed a hand against the closet door. After a moment of failing to open it, he thumped his forehead against the wood.

***

Gokudera tossed an unlit dynamite in his hand as he leaned against the wall of the training room wall. Normally he would have been smoking - in fact, his fingers ached to hold on to his cigarette, and his lungs craved for the poison - but the sight of Hibari nearly literally coughing his lungs out disquieted him enough to try to stop. At least for the moment.

Yamamoto was taking a really long time. Gokudera frowned, a hand dropped down onto his thigh and tapping on it. If he had to wait any longer, he was going to start chewing on the fuse of this dynamite.

It shouldn't have taken Yamamoto too long to pack. He didn't wear as many accessories as Gokudera himself on a regular basis, and usually kept all his equipment in one place, all clean and neat - which had no correlation to his laundry whatsoever.

When Yamamoto was done, he'd stared listlessly at his suitcase for a few minutes, then picked up the phone. He wanted to hear his father's voice, but no one picked up.

After his third try, Yamamoto sat down to write the guy an email. His old man checked his digital inbox about... oh, say two or three times in a month, but Yamamoto wanted to tell him what had been going on where they were going, what was going on and what he thought.

He felt... so lost.

And he knew he wasn't the only one. He ended the missive with a smiling emoticon, as wont, and then deleted it before taking a spare training sword downstairs.

Stepping inside the third training room, Yamamoto smiled habitually when he saw his grumpy friend, and, "Yo," waved from the door. After that, he wasn't even sure whether he was smiling or frowning, but he was definitely feeling more self conscious than he preferred.

Gokudera looked up at the approaching footsteps, scowling rather fiercely. For once, it was not because of Yamamoto- not entirely, anyway. He tugged at the ends of his hair, frustrated beyond belief by the entire situation.

Well, at least he was at the training room already. He could throw dynamite at Yamamoto and try to blow him up. Not that he didn't already do that on a semi-regular basis, but at least now he had a legitimate reason, which meant that Tsuna wouldn't get mad.

"Oi, baseball idiot," he called over. "Stop smiling like you've just been force-fed my sister's cooking." He sighed, stepping forward, "Do you want to switch on the simulations?"

"... I'm trying not to," Yamamoto answered sheepishly. But smiling was so_ easy_ for him, but now he couldn't even managed that. He lifted a hand and rubbed his jaw. "And sure," he shrugged. "Why not?"

Yamamoto pulled a plain wooden sword out of the bag, and-

Gokudera spotted it before Yamamoto could say a word. And scowled, hard, his hands clenching into fists on his hips. "Are you taking me seriously?" he pointed at the bokken, an utterly insulted look on his face. "Go get your katana, idiot."

"Huh?" Yamamoto looked back at him, mind blank. "Who's underestimating you?" But of course, there was no one else in the room. He just... never quite understood what it was about the two of them and this pattern they established _and maintained _over the years.

_I breathe, and it sets him off, _he thought wryly.

Gokudera pointed at the wooden bokken, his finger shaking slightly. "Do you really think that you can lay a hand on me?" His voice came out as barely more than a growl. "Look, Yamamoto, if you want to train properly then use the equipment you use in battle."

He waved the dynamite in his hand around. "Look, you don't see me using fake shit with you, right?"

"Aha-" Yamamoto cut off the laugh so often just used to defuse a situation. "That's because most of the time you _are_ trying to do damage to me, Gokudera." He gripped the sword through the bag, but made no move to take it out or retract his actions. "I _want_ to kill him," came a whisper that sounded almost alien to his ears.

Gokudera's eyes widened, and he almost took a step back at the feral look in Yamamoto's eyes. It was during moments like this that he could not doubt Reborn's words - that Yamamoto was a natural born hitman. The taller man's hand was white around his sword, his bones standing out starkly, and Gokudera, for a moment, feared him.

Feared _for_ him.

Because Yamamoto had obviously gotten himself way over his head with this, and it looked like he hadn't even noticed it. Gokudera scowled fiercely, running a hand through his hair and tugging at the ends.

"I've never-" Gokudera cut him off before he could continue.

"Everyone of us want to, Yamamoto. Chill out - you'll get your chance, sooner or later." He eyed him for another long moment before commenting thoughtfully, "I don't think I've ever seen you this mad before."

Yamamoto blinked, eyes widening at the realization. He forced his grip to relax and rolled his shoulders, shifting from one foot to the other. "It's all fun and games until," he closed his eyes and swallowed thickly. Hell, he didn't really want to think about it, but then the image of Hibari, pale, blood-speckled and barely breathing through tubes, would come back of its own accord. He shook his head. Amber eyes sought for green. Yamamoto took a deep breath, and then another.

"I don't doubt your abilities, Gokudera. I trust you... I just don't trust myself right now."

"It's never a game, Yamamoto," Gokudera replied seriously, all signs of anger gone. How could he remain frustrated at such a little thing in the face of Yamamoto's fury? He sighed, shaking his head, "I've been trying to tell you that since middle school."

Stepping forward, he wrapped his hand carefully around Yamamoto's wrist, his other hand slowly prying the taller man's fingers away from his sword. He was pretty sure that if Yamamoto had clutched onto the thing for any longer, it would start to splinter. He closed his eyes, heaving a long-suffering sigh. "And I get it now, idiot..."

Frowning slightly, Gokudera looked upwards into Yamamoto's eyes. When he spoke again, his tone was dry, "Though, of all the people you could have fallen for, you _just_ have to choose Hibari, wouldn't you?"

After a long, pregnant pause, Yamamoto's hand went slack in his. It took a bit longer for the man's mind formulated an intelligent reply, too.

"... Ah?"

The intelligent reply didn't _quite _make it out of his mouth though.

The sword, along with the bag, started sliding down. "Ah!" He caught his gear as Gokudera's words echoed in his head. "I... choose- chose- No, what? Me? Hibari? Gokudera!

"There's nothing like that between Hibari and I!" And that sorry look in Gokudera's eyes; was that guy _pitying_ _him?_

There was a long moment of complete silence as Gokudera contemplated between laughing his head off and smacking Yamamoto. He blinked, lips twitching.

_Was the idiot_ serious_? Did he not even notice?! _

There was a completely shocked expression on the Rain Guardian's face.

_Apparently not_.

Taking a few steps back until he was leaning against the wall, Gokudera threw his head back and chuckled, shoulders shaking with mirth. He remained like this for a few moments, scrabbling for control over himself through the haze of amusement. Honestly, this was just too _rich_.

And there were too little things to really laugh about at the moment.

He shook his head, a few last guffaws escaping his lips before he tilted his head back to look at Yamamoto, smirking. "There's nothing like that between the two of you... yet. Look, Yamamoto, it's obvious as hell to me that you've fallen for him. We're all worried about Hibari, yet only you loiter around the medical wing for the past two days. God knows if you slept much, but it looks like you haven't. And one of the doctors saw you hold Hibari's hand, practically _praying. _

_"Plus,_ you want to protect him - I still remember that." He ran a hand through his hair, still decidedly amused, "You're in so deep that you don't even notice it."

Yamamoto didn't move for a while, just blinking at Gokudera as though the guy had suddenly said something _horrible_ about his precious Tenth.

But as he turned the words over and over in his head, he couldn't seem to find anything to contradict the smirking man.

"I've... _fallen _for_ Hibari_..."

Saying it out loud just emphasized the point, as if setting it into stone.

"Heh." He looked down. His shoulders shook as he quietly chuckled. "That's funny," Yamamoto said mirthlessly. "Hibari could _die_ in two weeks... This is... This is funny."

Gokudera's scowl returned with a vengeance. He took two steps forward, reaching up and whacked Yamamoto on the temple, hard. "Oi, you stupid baseball freak. Don't tell me that you're giving up before we even do anything, huh?"

He crossed his arms, giving the taller man a dark glare.

Yamamoto tilted his head up automatically and his eyes were wide, pupils dilated until his eyes looked almost black. He met those demanding green eyes for an instant, and then looked to the side. "Of course not," he whispered. "We... _we_ have to get the cure.

"But the rest is up to Hibari."

Gokudera snorted, "That guy won't give up so easily. Hell, I won't be surprised if he can wake up right now and kick that bastard Byakuran's ass." As much as he hated to admit it, not even his pride would let him _not_ admit Hibari's skill and strength of will.

"So stop looking like the world's ending already." He tugged on a sleeve, looking away, embarrassed.

Yamamoto couldn't help it. Despite the odds, Gokudera's rather typical brand of tough love was _reassuring_. Sheepishly, Yamamoto grinned, peering at the man who became his best friend. How difficult it must be for Gokudera to say something so close to a compliment and give him a... a _pep talk_?

Reaching out with his freehand, Yamamoto slung an arm around Gokudera's shoulders and tugged the guy close. "Thanks," he sighed, resting his chin momentarily upon the shorter man's head.

Gokudera punched him on the shoulder to get him away, a light pink dusting his cheeks at the obvious gratitude. "You're welcome, baseball idiot," he replied gruffly, not looking at Yamamoto.

He pulled away, turning his back to the taller man. "Are we going to train or not?"

Yamamoto's laughter sounded more natural. "Yeah..." A change of tone, a change of stance. "Let's get started."

_TBC_

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GUYS. I adore your reviews. Kaga and I read them and squee over them every time you do. So thank you so much for them!

About updates... I update this every Monday or, at the very, very latest, on Tuesday if I'm busy. I keep to a very strict schedule. So don't worry. We WILL update and won't leave you hanging.

Also, yes. This is the first time ever that I've left an author's note. I'll just... disappear again now.


	9. Chapter 9

**Windshear   
**

Part 9/?

**Authors:** Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
Characters/Pairings: **All the Vongola Guardians, Reborn, and Byakuran. Byakuran/Mukuro, eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.**  
Rating: **PG-13**  
Words: **3861**  
Summary:** "So, Vongola Tenth, let's have a little gamble." The Guardians meets the Gesso in Rome. Just what is Byakuran playing at?

Faced with larger stakes, the reconstruction of the third training room was shoved to the far reaches of Tsuna's mind, overlapped by Gokudera and Yamamoto's condition, and most of all, Hibari's.

It was bad.

One of his aforementioned guardians, effectively out of commission, had to be _transported_ to Rome. The other two had been using each other as mobile training dummies to do something about mutual wishes to kill Byakuran, and thus - "Haha, sorry, Tsuna," and "I'm so sorry, Tenth!" - took out the third training room.

Tsuna just wanted to reach out and smack their heads together. _Hard._

But there were other things to worry about, like whether or not his guardians might mob Mukuro right now in this Gesso _famiglia_-run resort if his act is too convincing - or if Byakuran might do something drastic if it wasn't good enough.

Even so, Hibari...

He sighed and looked around, a dreadful sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted Chrome, who was looking around the resort, quiet and anxious, her hands tight around her trident.

Chrome chewed on her lip slightly, then her eyes went downcast, for she had definitely recognized the man who had come to greet them - Gloxinia, who had almost killed her ten years ago. There was no recognition in his eyes when he had glanced at her, which was of course expected. But it had put her on edge nonetheless - even more on edge then she was already.

It didn't help matters that Byakuran seemed to be completely at ease with them in his own territory, lounging on the couch like that he had just had sex. Chrome honestly wouldn't be surprised if that was true, especially when Mukuro was sitting at his feet like a pet, his head on his lap.

She felt just the slightest bit of irritation at that. She knew that Mukuro had to keep up his pretence of being unconcerned for Hibari's well-being and the Vongola as a whole, but... it irked her, that was all.

Briefly, she closed her eyes, and then sat down at one of the armchairs, tilting her head away from the sight.

Upon their entrance into his seating room, Byakuran looked up lazily, one hand curling around Mukuro's hair, almost petting him. He could sense their discomfort and ill will easily, no matter how much they tried to hide it, and it made him smile. He stood up, spreading an arm out opulently.

"Welcome to my humble cottage, Vongola," his voice just had a little of the mocking lilt to it. "I trust that your trip to Rome was... pleasant?"

Before anyone could say a word, particularly fuming Ryohei and Gokudera, Reborn replied curtly, "It is." He sat down on the couch just opposite Byakuran, crossing his legs and leaning back so his piercing dark eyes met the other's violet ones. "Let's get down to business, _Mr. Gesso_."

_My, my_, Byakuran thought, thoroughly amused. _What crawled up their asses and died there- oh wait._ He chuckled to himself before sitting back down. Mukuro had lifted his head up already, blinking blearily at the Vongola Guardians gathered - the poor thing, Byakuran _had_ exhausted him rather thoroughly last night, after all.

Mukuro was yawning into a hand, but his mind was as sharp as ever. One look at everyone gathered told him that pretty much everyone was displeased with the situation and with him - which he really couldn't give a damn about - and, more importantly, that Hibari's situation was worse than what his pretty Chrome's brief words had revealed.

Her small hands were completely white, a rather fetching colour against his silver trident.

Pushing those thoughts out of his mind, he pushed himself off the floor and sat down on the couch, drawing his legs close to him. He leaned a little against Byakuran - nothing but show to make Gloxinia's face turn just a little blacker - and kept his silence.

Byakuran smoothed his hand through Mukuro's hair almost absent-mindedly, turning to face the Vongola Tenth and his tutor with a wide, disarming grin on his face. "I'm glad to hear that, Vongola Tenth, Reborn-san."

He linked his fingers together and dropped his head on them, "Now, I have a proposition for you. But before I say it... would you like to give me an offer, Vongola Tenth?"

Tsuna could feel the negativity from his guardians, _all _hispresentguardians, as if they were cutting into him like knives. Into him, through him, and towards Byakuran and the gathered Gesso members. He looked over his shoulder, to calm the people behind him. Ryohei and Gokudera may be the most vocal, because the Sun Guardian considers Cloud his friend, and Storm thinks of them all as part of his family - with an extreme, almost-religious zeal.

But even Lambo saw Hibari as one of his important people as well, having grown up around the man and training to escape his attention and subsequent wrath.

And of course, now he meant something more to Yamamoto than the Rain guardian seemed to realize. Or, Tsuna frowned slightly, maybe he had realized... the man always used to admire Hibari and respect him, preferably from afar, like the rest of them.

But it had to take a botanically engineered disease?

Reborn must be beating himself up inside, Tsuna thought, for having prevented one student's death only to shift the bullet's target towards another.

Despite how calm they might look, even Chrome and Mukuro had to be shaken.

Grimly, Tsuna turned back to Byakuran, but ignored him momentarily to give his yawning Mist Guardian a once over. Mukuro was acting so unlike himself, so submissive and pet-like. It hurt to think of how Byakuran must take pleasure in treating him so, or Mukuro wouldn't have to act in this way.

Quietly, Tsuna promised to himself that he could not, _would not_ let any of them down.

"Byakuran-san. We came in peace, and as per your request, all my guardians are in Rome. Including the Cloud."

It sounded angrier to Tsuna out loud rather than just in his head.

"Now," he paused to edit out the _'stop beating around the bush'_ before he continued, "Would you tell us what you want?"

Byakuran chuckled, thoroughly amused. Well, well, the seemingly meek-looking Vongola Tenth actually _did_ have fire, and more than just his dying will flame.

Byakuran did not mind it - quite the contrary, actually. It would be far too boring if the Vongola had just bent over and let him do whatever he wanted. He clapped his hands together and leaned backwards, perfectly at ease despite the heavy, oppressive pressure he could feel from the Vongola Guardians.

"Well," he tapped his lip, the image of innocent curiosity if not for the glint in his eyes. "I'm sure you've already guessed: your rings." He lifted his right hand and pointed at Reborn, the light glinting off the Sky Mare ring on his ring finger. "And of course, that Arcobaleno pacifier that your tutor has hanging on his neck."

Before they could reply - and _oh_, he could see that they wanted to speak, especially that Sun Guardian, almost blue in the face now – Byakuran shook his head and continued, "But! I'm not such an unreasonable man, you see. I know you won't give them up." He chuckled lightly, and stroked his hand through Mukuro's hair. "So, Vongola Tenth, let's have a little gamble."

"... I'm all ears," Tsuna replied, a flat look in his eyes. What else were they here for, besides listening to Byakuran's song and figuring out how to get the cure to Hibari with the least damage, the least loss of human life possible?

Behind Tsuna, Gokudera felt a tug upon his sleeve. A sharp glance down, and he traced the hand back to Yamamoto, who still had his eyes on Byakuran and an uncharacteristic frown on his face. He knew what Yamamoto wanted and it defused his own anger somewhat. Casting his glance aside to glower at _anything else_, Gokudera clutched Yamamoto's wrist, a safety precaution they agreed on last night.

Byakuran did not miss that little movement, even though his focus was entirely on Tsuna. His smirk widened even further, until he faintly resembled the Cheshire Cat. "It's very simple, really," he spread out his arms wide. "Let's gamble everything on one battle. If you win, Hibari Kyouya receives the cure. And if I win, I get your rings and that pretty yellow pacifier."

He laughed; tilted his head to the side.

"Let your Cloud Guardian fight me."

There was an uproar of voices all mixed up on top of each other.

"What the _hell_?"

"He's in _coma_!"

"You crazy bas-"

"Sasagawa. Yamamoto! _Gokudera_!" Tsuna raised his voice sharply, knuckles turning white on his knees. He didn't look back at them, but the grave weight of his tone was unlike anything they'd ever heard from the Tenth before.

After a few seconds of silence, Tsuna resumed, "You're asking for the impossible. There's no doubt in my mind that he would fight you if he could move, but as we all just heard, Hibari-san is in a coma right now."

Amused but unsurprised by the uproar that ensued, Byakuran's lips twitched. He threw his head back, bursting into laughter. Then he leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees, a full-blown smirk on his lips. "Yes, do calm down, Guardians of the Vongola." He tilted his head, looking contemplative for a moment. "Well, that _is_ a problem... Hahaha, then we'll have to wait for him to wake up, won't we?"

Tsuna scowled, lips drawn into a straight line.

"... Tenth."

Instinctively, Tsuna started turning to his Right Hand Man. Gokudera was looking to the left however, alarmed rather than simply angry. Dreading the reason, Tsuna looked at his Rain Guardian.

"Yamamoto... What is it?"

"Let me fight in Hibari's place," he replied. Yamamoto's voice was clear, quiet, and deceptively calm. "Please."

Mukuro swore mentally the moment Yamamoto made his request. _Bad move, Takeshi-kun_, he thought to himself. _You're just putting yourself up on the chopping block now._ Despite his thoughts, his exterior remained as calm and placid as ever, his head on Byakuran's shoulder, posture entirely passive.

Byakuran blinked at Yamamoto, and he _smiled_. Twirling Mukuro's long ponytail with a hand, he shook his head, "Ahahaha, you're really funny, Mr. Rain Guardian." He tilted his head up, looking into Yamamoto's fury-filled eyes with no little amusement. "You're a really chivalrous man, but I'm afraid I have to decline your offer~" there was just the slightest bit of a mocking lilt in his voice.

"You're not Hibari-kun, and I only want Hibari-kun."

He leaned forward a little more, seemingly entirely earnest and sincere. "See, I've always heard about Hibari-kun's exploits - he's your strongest, isn't he? It's all very interesting and exciting to hear, really. So I've decided that I want to fight him, and well, what better chance than now?"

His smirk turned malicious, "It _is_ his own life on the line, after all."

Gokudera jerked Yamamoto's arm back before the man could even begin to pull out from his grip.

"Che. If you want to fight him, genius, you'd have to cure him first," Gokudera barked at Byakuran. "There's no honour in winning a fight against a sick man."

Tsuna agreed, so he did nothing to hold Gokudera back this time. He just glared at Byakuran instead. "... If you're done baiting my guardians, shall we move on to something more feasible?"

"But you asked me what do I want, Vongola Tenth," Byakuran replied, perfectly innocent. "And that is the only thing I want. I'm not an impatient man - I'm willing to wait until he has awoken from his coma.

"And he _will_, Rain-kun."

He let his arms drop back to his side, dropping backwards to lean back against the overstuffed leather couch. "Storm-kun, you forgot one thing," he waggled a finger at the Vongola Storm Guardian, smirking widely. "If I cured him already, he would have no reason to fight me at his best, hmm?

"I do so want to see his _dying_ _will_, after all."

"Trust me," Gokudera growled, "He'd remember you with his dying will, regardless!"

Before anyone else could say another word, Tsuna's cell phone suddenly rang. He gasped mentally, eyes hooding as he turned to look at his pocket. No one, but no one was supposed to call him right now, except... it was the Namimori anthem.

"Excuse me!" Swiftly, he pulled the phone out of his front pocket, staring at the message.

"Hibari-san!"

As soon as he said it, he realized his mistake. _Oh no_-

"He's awoken?" Byakuran's clapped his hands together, his smile widening so much that his eyes almost looked like wide slits. "How serendipitous, Vongola Tenth! How utterly splendid!" He threw his head back and laughed loudly and melodiously. "We can _certainly_ continue with our gamble now, can't we?"

"Ku... fufu.... Kufufufu..." Mukuro buried his face against Byakuran's shoulder, but did not bother to hide his laughter. He could feel their stares, shocked, angry... and amusement from Byakuran alone. But it was rich. It was ironic.

_Mukuro-sama? What... Are you... Is everything all right?_

Mukuro sighed contently, relaxing against Byakuran and opening his eyes to stare at the phone.

_All right, my dear Chrome? Why, the Gods are in their heavens and all's right with the world._

***

The first thing Hibari was aware of was that there was a needle under his skin.

The second was that there was a tube down his throat.

And the third was that he couldn't move properly - his body was heavy, numb. It was as if he had been drugged.

His eyes flew open. This... no. This was entirely too much like _then_, from before he was _Hibari_ and was just a weak child in a _research facility_. White surrounded him, just like_ then_, and the white was moving around him, _surrounding_ him, _crowding_ him. His fingers twitched. The monitor beside his bed started to screech.

In one jerky motion, Hibari sat up from the bed and tore the three IVs from his arms, the violence of it drawing blood. His eyes were wild, feral, and _empty_ as he grabbed hold of the silicon tube leading down his throat and tugged.

Needless to say, the numerous probes and sensors on his body didn't survive the onslaught, and the machines around him screamed and beeped in alarm as, for all intents and purposes, Hibari was dead as the monitor stopped sensing any sign of life.

There were people calling his name, shouting at him to stop, but the blood was roaring in his ears and his hands itched to close around metal. His tonfas - where were they? Never mind - he could fight with whatever that came to hand. Just because they took away his weapons didn't mean that he was _helpless_ - far from it.

He growled like a wounded wolf when a blotch of white tried to approach him, teeth bared and eyes wide. Pushing himself off the bed, he took a step towards the door. Then another. He was almost out of there, out of those memories and near nightmares when-

In the move reminiscent of his old tutor, Hibari's legs gave out on him and he tripped over the sheets, sending him crashing to his knees on the floor. The sudden flare of pain woke him up from the numbness he had been swimming in, chasing it away, and making him fully aware of his body... and of the white-hot pain in his chest.

He gasped, doubling over, his hands bunching his shirt as he tried to draw enough breath to stand up again.

That was how Tsuna and his fellow guardians - even Mukuro, through Chrome's eyes - saw Hibari when they rushed into the room.

The medical personal wisely stayed back, but Yamamoto, being a fool, and a fool who now knew that he was in love, rushed to Hibari's side with little regard for personal safety.

In hindsight, Gokudera wondered if he should have grab hold on the idiot and _never let go_ - not that he felt more for the guy than he'd admit, but they more or less spent the more interesting parts of their lives growing up together. And now seeing Yamamoto and Hibari like this, so close and light years apart...

Gokudera wanted to tell him to back off and let the doctors sedate the freak _for his own bloody good_.

_And blood. _The awful treads of red trickling down the holes in Hibari's arms and from his lips... There were smears of it on the stark white tiles beneath him, and looking brown on the ugly green of his hospital garb...

"Hibari!" Yamamoto was nearly screaming, because what would softness and gentle laughter mean to a wounded carnivore? "Hibari, stop! Let the doctors help you!"

Ryohei found himself held back by Lambo, of all people, who looked at him with such pitiful eyes.

"Don't crowd him," the boy whimpered.

"Don't touch me," Hibari barked out, fire practically spitting from his eyes as he glared at the blurry form in front of him. The voice cut through the dizziness and the haziness to deliver a new wave of pain into Hibari's head. But he barely noticed the pain, because there was someone there now, someone _tangible_ for him to fight against, to rail out against.

Someone who, very possibly, had placed him in a situation too similar to then.

"Don't fucking _touch_ me," Hibari's hand had closed around Yamamoto's wrist before it even landed on his shoulder, squeezing hard enough to bruise. "All of this-" he waved a hand around him, "Don't you fucking dare to try to drug me up as if I'm one of you _herbivores_." His chest heaved with the effort, and he shoved Yamamoto away, hard.

And Yamamoto should have expected that, really. Because Hibari was nothing if not feral, least of all when he felt his strength or authority the slightest bit threatened. But for all his blinding concern, Yamamoto received a knock to his senses when Hibari pushed him back with a physically painful blow.

For the first time, it occurred to him why Mukuro hadn't seemed too concerned with the outcome of Byakuran's requested battle. Hibari was strong. He had less than two weeks to live, he just woke up from a coma, and yet... Yamamoto could honestly feel bruises spread to his bones.

Back at the doorway, Mukuro looked through Chrome's eyes and frowned. There was something odd about this scene. Something _familiar_ scratching beneath the surface of his own skin, against muscles and nerves and he _knew_, all of the sudden. It was the look in Hibari's eyes... he wasn't behaving just like a wounded predator. He was behaving like a wounded and _terrified_ one.

A lot of things about Hibari suddenly made sense to him, and Mukuro laughed inside Chrome. It was really terribly ironic, because the man who hated him the most seemed to have a part of him that was very similar to Mukuro himself... or was it _because_ of this similarity that Hibari hated him? Well, he could possibly find out later.

_Chrome my dear_, Mukuro spoke,_ I need to borrow your voice for a little._

_You're not going to manifest, Mukuro-sama?_ Chrome asked, polite and unfazed as always. Sometimes he wished that she would still blush when he talked to her, but he liked this Chrome better. He didn't bother answering her question.

"Hibari," Mukuro said, in Chrome's voice. "Hibari, these people are your own doctors. Let them help you." He lowered her voice until it was a soft, soothing whisper, dropping down into a crouch far away from Hibari. "They are not like _those people_.

Charity wasn't something that came easy to him, but it was easier with Chrome's subtle, guiding hand. But this was his limit. He closed his eyes and his presence faded, retreating to the back of Chrome's mind, merely watching.

Hibari panted, eyes narrowing as they slid over to first Chrome, then Reborn. Not 'those', huh? And what would Chrome know of- no, that was Mukuro, for sure. Mukuro, whom Hibari despised because he was so weak to slide into that madness instead of holding on to himself and his own self.

Hibari barked a laugh.

Reborn closed his eyes, dropping down to sit on the floor, his legs tucked out of the way and hands open. He knew what Mukuro was insinuating, and it surprised him just slightly that the usually malicious Mist Guardian would lend a hand this time. Especially to the man who professed to hate him so.

"Don't fight against _us_, Hibari. There's someone else for you to fight - the man who did this to you," his voice was firm but soft, and bore no argument. There was only one way to reason with a predator – just offer him better, more enticing prey. That had always worked with Hibari in the past.

"Byakuran...?" Hibari asked in reply, his voice hoarse as he turned his eyes forward to face Reborn. The hitman nodded. Hibari closed his eyes.

"All right."

It was the finality in his ragged voice that told Tsuna nothing he could say would change Hibari's mind. Tsuna closed his eyes, steeling himself against the overwhelming anxieties running amok in the crowded room so that he could clear his mind and think of the right decisions to make.

"That's fine," he opened his eyes. Patting his Rain Guardian on the shoulder as he walked past him, Tsuna stopped in front of Hibari, and told him, "Get up.

"Let your doctors patch you up, so you can train without bleeding all over the place. He'll give us your cure when you win, so don't bite him to death unless you're taking him with you," he paused, eyes softening slightly. "Okay?"

Hibari cracked an eye open, looking up towards Tsuna. Sometimes, that man gave him the reason to tolerate his leadership all over again. But Hibari's will still remained his own - he wasn't a weak, dependent herbivore like the rest of them, needing Sawada's _guidance_. He closed his eyes again and stood up as fluidly as he could.

Sitting down on the bed, he held out his still-bleeding arms, an unspoken command that his doctors immediately obeyed, scrabbling over towards him. He looked down to the floor now that the world had stopped spinning, and saw Yamamoto looking at him with a strange, yet familiar expression. It was a look that he had seen on Dino Cavallone's face before, in the past.

Hibari didn't understand it then, and he still didn't understand it now.

He scowled, turning back to Tsuna.

"I will exact my vengeance, Sawada Tsunayoshi," he intoned flatly.

The Tenth nodded then, and said, "I don't doubt that." His voice was strong and determined. Because he believed - no, he _knew_: this time, Byakuran had really chosen the wrong target.

_TBC_

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Hibari's reaction in this part can be explained if you read _Ultimate Self-Made Man_. Just click on my name. :D


	10. Chapter 10

**Windshear   
**

Part 10/?

**Authors:** Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
Characters/Pairings: **All the Vongola Guardians, Reborn, and Byakuran. Byakuran/Mukuro, eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.**  
Rating: **PG-13**  
Words: **6405**  
Summary:** Reborn was sure now: when it came to feelings, Yamamoto was an incredible masochist, and Hibari was so dense it had to be seen to be believed. Tsuna didn't know the half of it, but at least they were motivated... to fight.

Hibari leaned against the wall of one of the base's training rooms, eyes closed and shoulders slumped slightly. He didn't let go of his tonfas. Quite the contrary, his fingers tightened around them as he locked his knees, refusing the urge to fall to the ground as a fresh wave of pain took his breath away.

His fight with Byakuran was in two days, and he absolutely refused to lose.

Reborn may have been fine watching the Cloud Guardian train from his eye in the sky and whatnot, hidden cameras all around the base, but Yamamoto didn't have that luxury. Even if he did, he wouldn't have been able to deal with simply waiting in the stands while Hibari fought off mere simulations while training for a _very real_ threat.

That was why Reborn was not at all surprised when Yamamoto entered the training room. The Rain guardian was dressed for kendo practice, and the sword at his hip - ah, Gokudera got through to him - was the Shigure Kintoki.

Hibari opened his eyes when he heard the door open, his tonfas rising into a defensive pose instinctively. Fighting had been bred strongly enough into his blood that he had no need to think about it anymore. When he spotted Yamamoto at the door, dressed for training with that curious sword at his side, Hibari's lips curved up into a miniscule smile.

"Are you here to be beaten, Yamamoto Takeshi?"

"Ahahaha," Yamamoto smile back at first. He shrugged. As he walked closer, he managed to school his expression into one of calm. Giving Hibari a standing bow, he then unsheathed his sword, and assumed the _sonkyo_ position - a squatting posture of respect - holding the Shigure Kintoki in centre guard.

"I promised you a fight, Hibari." Yamamoto stood then and took one step forward. "Shall we?"

Hibari pushed himself from the wall and straightened himself, holding his tonfas stiff at his side. He stepped forward and inclining his head, returning the respect. He bent his knees and raised his tonfas into his standard offensive position, his smirk widening into a predatory smile.

"Hajime," he intoned; _start_. And struck.

Yamamoto parried one tonfa to the left and quickly sidestepped, using the back of his sword to block the other tonfa quickly coming at his right. As he suspected, Hibari was going to keep him at the defensive for quite some time. _That's good. '_Just'focusing on not getting hit would allow him to warm up first.

Hibari felt a bubble of satisfaction grow in his chest as he pivoted on his ankle, this time aiming for Yamamoto's ribs and neck. The taller man was not holding back, giving his all in a _proper_ fight and Hibari could feel the excitement growing as he parried a strike and returned one of his own.

So this was the real skill of the baby's 'natural born hitman', huh? Hibari's eyes sharpened as he danced backwards a few steps, out of the reach of that katana. But still, he could sense something holding the man back...

"Is that all you've got, Yamamoto Takeshi?"

The swordsman ducked back in time, the strike towards his chest missing by an inch. The side of his sword took the brunt of an oncoming head blow. It was steady footwork and the resilience of his sword that allowed him to channel the shock down to the ground and to keep moving fluidly at the same time.

"Nah, I'm just warming up," Yamamoto replied with an utterly boyish grin.

He was careful though, when he attacked, flipping the hilt in mid swing when it looked like he really would slice something more than fabric.

When Yamamoto's sword turned in the opposite direction of his swing, Hibari's eyes narrowed. He dodged the sword with ease and switched the grip of the tonfa on his right hand, turning around and stepping in. Smacking Yamamoto upwards from the chin, his lips twisted into an unpleasant smile when it hit.

"I suggest that you take me seriously," Hibari intoned.

All he got for a reply was a low hiss as Yamamoto slid back, putting some distance between them and feeling like his jaw just got unhinged.

It was only starting to bruise and go numb, Yamamoto told himself. What was a little pain anyway?

"... Thanks."

Hibari lifted a slim eyebrow. Only Yamamoto would _thank_ him after he was just beaten - was the man really stupid, or was he simply a masochist? Hibari shook the thought from his head - it didn't matter, either way. He took a step forward, and ignited his ring. Violet flames sparked, and burst, running down the metal tonfas until the silver wasn't visible anymore. Through the pure, flickering flame, Hibari smirked.

"O-okay..." Yamamoto gave a breathless laugh as he jumped out of the way again. He was a close combat fighter, and here he was trying to get out of Hibari's way. He tried not to look too amused. What would his father say if he saw him now?

_'Our fighting style is perfect, Takeshi. Flawless. invincible.'_

_Yeah, so in other words, it's all my fault if I lose and dishonour the family, or something. _

There was a flare of blue flame at that thought. Even under the training room's lighting, Yamamoto's sword seemed to glow neon.

Warming up was one thing, but actually attacking Hibari was hard. It wasn't that he couldn't get a hit in... Hibari was stronger than anyone, _the absolute strongest_, but he was still fallible and Yamamoto didn't particularly need any extra proof of that!

Besides, it wouldn't be too dishonourable losing to the strongest, right? Yamamoto tried to let himself flow, like water, into the fight.

For Hibari though, it seemed easy; Hibari danced.

There was no other way to describe it - the swift steps, the snapping blows, the parries and the blocks as he balanced on the balls of his feet, twisting his body as he searched for openings in Yamamoto's defences and covered his own. He ducked, avoiding the swing of the Shigure Souen Style's fifth form, the _Samidare_, and the tails of his suit flared out behind him, creating the illusions of wings.

Yamamoto floundered slightly, a flicker of relief in his eyes. Hibari seemed fine, completely in his element. He moved like a dark cloud riding on swift winds, carrying the promise of a cruel, blinding tempest.

He bent his knees slightly, stepping on Yamamoto's sword on a downward slash. Curling his body inwards, he spun and rolled until he was behind the taller man, the cold of his tonfa suddenly against Yamamoto's throat and back.

"Your swings are too wide."

And the blue flame flickered out of existence too easily, its owner having prepared beforehand to accept a loss.

Yamamoto lowered his blade, letting it revert to its 'practice sword' state, and straightened to avoid the violet flame.

"That was awesome..." He grinned at Hibari. "As expected with you..."

Hibari narrowed his eyes, the tonfa digging into Yamamoto's throat a little more. "Are you giving up already, herbivore?"

How disappointing.

"... So you've decided I'm an herbivore now?" Yamamoto ducked aside with annoyingly casual ease, his tone mildly teasing. "Haha, what happened to wolf in sheep's clothing?"

Hibari's anger grew another notch, and he stepped forward, practically exuding menace. "You have worn that sheepskin so much that you have become one of them," he stated, half contemplative and half disdainful. "You waste my time by holding back and treating this as a game."

His lips twisted into a dark smirk, and purple flames licked against the cloth of Yamamoto's chest, above his head. "I don't play games, Yamamoto Takeshi."

The swordsman's expression sobered, and he grew quiet. He stared at Hibari, glanced down at the still-heated weapon, and smirked wryly when he looked back into his eyes.

"... If you were taking the fight completely seriously, wouldn't I have ended up with my spine broken in two places?"

Hibari shook his head minutely. "I do not fight half-heartedly. It is simply that it is a waste of..." he tilted his head to the side slightly, smirking, "_resources_ if I kill worthy sparring partners." Something told Yamamoto that it wasn't a compliment. "There are none stronger - if I kill all who are weaker, I would grow bored quickly."

His tone turned frosty. "But given your refusal to take me seriously, I wonder if you were trying, or if you are even worth fighting at all."

"I... " Yamamoto paused, remembering how Gokudera practically blew up when he told the guy he didn't want to hurt him. He chuckled, continuing beneath his breath. "Well, I don't want to... _bore _you, Hibari..." It wasn't what he meant to say; it didn't come out sounding natural at all.

"You bore me plenty, like this," Hibari said tonelessly, stepping backwards and letting his hands fall to his sides. There was a slow boiling fury in his eyes as he grabbed Yamamoto by the collar, pulling him to the side and slamming him against the wall. He _smiled_, and wrapped his hand loosely around the taller man's throat.

"I didn't think you were such a fool as to underestimate me, Yamamoto Takeshi," he said, almost conversationally.

"... I'm being realistic," Yamamoto replied casually, or rather, as casually as the ringing at the back of his head and the hand tightening at his throat allowed.

But Hibari's skin, with his eyes like shining obsidian, looked far too pale in comparison. And his wrist - Yamamoto's fingers slipped around it, clutched it and _could he break it?_ That wrist felt so small and thin.

"Hibari, I could..." _hurt you. I don't want to hurt you._

Hibari pulled his wrist out of Yamamoto's grip, but not quickly enough for the other man to feel the slight tremble that ran down his body. He closed his eyes and pulled away, suddenly feeling far too tired to continue this farce of a 'spar', especially when Yamamoto couldn't seem to fight him properly due to his _weak- _his illness_._

Hibari had no interest in fighting sheep, no matter their hidden strengths.

Without regard for the rest of Yamamoto's words, he turned around and started to walk away. His hands were starting to feel numb anyway...

But he managed to take three steps before his chest seized up and his legs lost all feeling, making him lose all his grace. He stumbled over his own feet, and his hands flew to his mouth, covering it as another coughing fit possessed him.

"Hibari!"

Sword at last dropped and promptly forgotten, Yamamoto pushed himself from the wall without thinking. He wrapped his arms around Hibari's torso automatically, protectively. Momentum made him stumble, but he manoeuvred them so that he could touch the ground first, thus cushioning Hibari's fall.

Hibari barely noted all that. He tried to struggle against the arms around him, but it was futile and soon, he was distracted by the sheer, undeniable need to attempt to hack up a lung. He closed his eyes, letting his body drop backwards to lean against the source of steady warmth at his back. Blood-spotted hands dropped from his mouth as he turned his head, pressing his clammy forehead against that warmth, a hand fisting around cloth while the other clenched tightly on the floor.

It was a struggle to breathe.

Yamamoto held on tight, tucking Hibari into his arms as if proximity could make the disease leave that small, wracked frame and move into a healthier, more challenging target. He didn't really know what to do, his first instincts being to pick Hibari up and rush him to his doctors.

But what good would that really do? Panic was starting to creep in.

"Don't die. Don't die..."

"Shut up," Hibari managed to rasp out in the middle of the coughs. He could recognize Yamamoto's voice even in this state, and it _annoyed_ him, the unidentifiable emotions he could hear in them. Part of him - the still-lucid, reasonable part - wondered why Yamamoto seemed to care so much, but he had other pressing concerns and the matter was pushed out of his mind to make way to keeping his lungs inside his body.

The metallic taste of his own blood was unpleasant, which was contradictory, given how much he liked the taste of others'. But having his own blood in his mouth meant a sign of weakness; that someone had managed to wound him enough to bleed, and Hibari detested weakness.

Slowly, the coughs started to subside. With his eyes still closed, Hibari, eyes still closed, barked out, "Help me up."

Guilty silence came from Yamamoto, who had halted those negative words as soon as Hibari alerted him of them. He swallowed thickly, and nodded, pushing himself up off the ground to one knee first, and straightening up, his arms wrapped securely around Hibari to help him up steadily.

Yamamoto looked at him with wet eyes and dry cheeks, and stared at the blood between them. He opened his mouth - _Help you up? Of course I'll help - you never ask for help, wait_ - but Yamamoto's throat closed up.

Hibari found his feet easily, but they refused to take his full weight when he tried to stand. He stumbled again, and the floor seemed to come up to swallow him once more, but he held out and forced his feet _down_ and _barely_, finally, they held him up. Bitterly, he thought that his fight with Yamamoto took less effort.

He was tired, exhaustion running along every vein and hidden in every breath. Briefly, he wanted to just close his eyes and let the darkness take him, but he hated losing so much more than he hated the pain. No matter what it took, he refused to lose - it was so out of character for him to admit defeat that the word wasn't even in his vocabulary.

He steadied himself and turned. The tears in Yamamoto's eyes, the deep lines drawn on his face and the shaking of his fingers - Hibari saw all these, and he did not understand. Yamamoto seemed to be defeated already, and the battle had yet to begin.

"Why are you crying?" Hibari asked with the curiosity of a child who had discovered a new, shiny object in the room.

Yamamoto blinked rapidly, eyebrows shooting up as an expression of surprise came over his face.

Well, that explained why his vision was suddenly so blurry.

"It's funny," the corners of his lips twitched upwards. In spite of the situation, he laughed. "I didn't know I was crying... I don't know why. _You're_ the one who's hurt..."

He sniffed back the tears, and tried to put on a brave face. "You're so strong, Hibari."

Hibari just stared at him, uncomprehending. Yamamoto was crying _and_ laughing - two supposedly conflicting and contradictory emotions, and it was all just too complicated for him to understand. The other man looked pathetic, the way he tried to pretend that he wasn't flinging his uncontrolled emotions around flagrantly.

_Lost wolf trained in by a horde of sheep. _

Hibari pulled Yamamoto down until they were nose to nose. He didn't know why it bothered him. Perhaps the weakness of his body was affecting his _mind_ as well.

"Stop behaving so disgracefully," he practically ordered. With his eyes sharp and clear as he looked into Yamamoto's eyes, he declared, "I won't die."

Yamamoto stared for a long, quiet moment, then nodded, and blinked the tears away, lifting a hand to wipe his cheeks dry. Except his hands were dirty with red smears, so he quickly let them drop to his sides.

"... I'll fight you properly," he offered. "After we get cleaned up, and... get some food in your stomach, all right?"

Yamamoto's words barely registered in Hibari's mind. The world was starting to swim again - a sign that he was absolutely exhausted and would become delirious if he didn't sleep soon. He looked down at himself - there were barely a few speckles of blood on his hand and his cuffs, true, but that was inconsequential. He had slept through much worse.

Part of him thought of not sleeping because he might not wake up, but then Hibari snorted to himself and decided that he really _was_ delirious now. His body wouldn't dare to disobey him even while asleep. He turned around and stepped forward such that Yamamoto's chest brushed against him.

"I'm tired," Hibari announced, voice still steady and audible. "I'm going to sleep... Wake me up and I'll bite you to death."

Yamamoto was more comfortable than the floor, he mused fuzzily. With a yawn, he dropped his head onto the taller man's shoulder, draping an arm over the other shoulder before drifting straight off into sleep.

For his part, Yamamoto gave Hibari a startled, wide-eyed gasp, then found himself hurriedly wiping his bloodied hand against his hakama pants. Carefully, he cupped the back of Hibari's head and held the older man securely as he manoeuvred them closer to a wall. He knelt down. No way was Hibari going to get any decent rest standing like that; Yamamoto leaned his back against the wall, and prayed for Hibari, for the Vongola, to no particular denomination. Whoever or whatever listening would do.

*******

There was a subtle, slow rocking motion, then, hands on his skin. Hibari was barely aware of all these - the sensations were too faint to pierce through the thick fog of exhaustion in his mind - but he _remembered_. He remembered enough to not be _too_ surprised when he opened his eyes and, instead of the training room he had expected, he saw his own room.

He blinked, and then slowly sat up. His chest protested, and he ignored it, looking around.

Someone - Hibari had a clear suspicion _who_ - had decided to _touch his things_. There was certain logic and structure to his room, and it had been _upset_. The tea set was an inch too much to the left; the chair was pushed in too much; his computer mouse wasn't in its last position. Hibari's eyes narrowed, his eyes flashing as he scanned the room for his tonfas... which were on the nightstand and obviously not on his bed.

Grabbing the metal in his hands, he pushed himself off the bed to stand. The sudden change in position made the world spin dizzily around him, but he ignored it and waited. He knew he wouldn't have to wait too long.

There were footsteps outside the door.

And sure enough, a few seconds later, the door knob turned... and _soundlessly_ Yamamoto opened the door. When he saw Hibari's face however, he smiled brightly and let go, the mechanics of the knob sliding audibly back into its natural position since he wasn't trying to be quiet anymore.

"Up already?" He pulled the door shut behind him without looking back and padded over to one side of the bed, just standing beside Hibari. "I hope it wasn't my footsteps that woke you," Yamamoto teased.

He seemed better. Calm again. And he had changed out of his kendo uniform, back into a deep blue shirt and a comfortable pair of slacks.

But none of that mattered. Hibari's lips drew back, baring his teeth at those words. He nearly marched over, his tonfa raising immediately to press lightly on Yamamoto's throat. "What. Did. You. Do," he growled out.

Yamamoto blinked at the tonfa, tilting his chin up slightly in some semblance of self-preservation. "I..." He searched his mind for anything he did that might have have upset Hibari so. "... I carried you back to your room? And got you out of... " _Oh._ "... dirtied clothes."

Hibari nearly growled at that. He had been _moved_, and had his clothes changed... all without waking up or noticing. A surge of anger rose in him, reflected in the tense lines on his jaw and the grinding of his teeth. He wasn't angry at Yamamoto - he was angry at _himself_, at his own body _daring_ to betray him, at his own inability to stop it.

But being angry at himself did nothing, so he decided to redirect his anger slightly. "What did you touch in my room?" he nearly barked out, pressing the tonfa closer.

Yamamoto had been about to add that he hadn't done anything inappropriate to Hibari either, but that question knocked the thought aside quickly.

"... Your closet. I just grabbed the first things on top. I didn't change your underwear or anything," he blushed.

Hibari stared at the blush. What had caused _that_ particular reaction? It wasn't as if Hibari had asked any question that could have been embarrassing.

How very strange, this Yamamoto Takeshi.

He closed his eyes and stepped back, walking back towards the bed and sitting down on it. He wasn't so irrational as to fight Yamamoto over something so trivial, and when his target wasn't even the Rain Guardian in the first place - he might be so irrational when he was younger, but... things had changed. His priorities were different now.

"Don't move the things in my room," he said tonelessly.

'Yamamoto thought of the chair that he'd rather thoughtlessly nudged aside when he lowered Hibari onto the bed earlier... and recalled moving aside some of the things on the table when he was changing Hibari out of the blood speckled clothes that were now in the wash.

He had been trying to convince himself that it was _just_ for Hibari's benefit when he saw how very thin the ... the dying man was. Hibari really was incredible... Just the fact that he was in such a bad condition, was still so observant, and still so very _alive_.

"Sorry," Yamamoto smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "... Did I wake you up?"

Hibari shook his head, answering curtly, "No." Now that his exhaustion was mostly gone, he realized that his rebellious body was now demanding something else.

He stood up slowly, moving towards the door. Then he paused, turning to face Yamamoto, "... Is there food?"

Yamamoto looked dumbfound. And then his stomach growled.

"Ahahaha," he rubbed his stomach half-self-consciously, and nodded. "Soon as we figure out what we want to eat, yeah!"

Hibari's lips quirked up slightly in amusement at the blatant display of hunger. He shook his head, then turned back to his closet and withdrawing his jacket, draping it over his shoulders. The weather had been colder recently. He looked at Yamamoto for a moment, and then shrugged.

"Since you're here, we might as well have Japanese food."

The smile on Yamamoto's face broadened, giving off a soft, warm, natural glow. "Gotcha," he nodded. If there was nothing else he could do for Hibari, at least he could ply that far too thin frame with some decent home-made meals.

***

Tsuna slowed his steps, sniffing the air when he caught the scent of freshly cooked rice wafting out of the kitchen and... _ooh_, miso soup. He thought of his mother, happy-go-lucky and thankfully clueless, still living in Japan because no one wanted to tell her about her husband and her son and the mafia.

"Hibari-san?" He gaped at the man seated at the kitchen table, then at the one standing, with an apron on. "Yamamoto?"

Reborn, entering the kitchen behind Tsuna, chuckled under his breath at the scene. Hibari was sitting at the table, lifting his head from his hand. It was clear that he had just been dozing off. He looked at Tsuna, then the other two. Well, this was certainly fortuitous.

"Do you have enough for four, Yamamoto?" He dropped into a seat.

Hibari was still slightly groggy from waking up and then falling back to sleep on the kitchen table. His focus sharpened when he spotted Tsuna and Reborn enter, however, and he nodded to the both of them, not bothering to speak. Four people weren't crowding yet, especially since they were all people he could marginally tolerate. So it was alright.

For now.

He picked up the bowl of miso soup and sipped it, while Yamamoto greeted them like the soft, fuzzysheep that he wasn't.

"Sure," the man was laughing, smiling towards his two 'new customers'. He left the rice cooker open for a moment longer to ladle up some more soup. "Have a seat."

Tsuna nodded and took the seat across from his Cloud guardian after a second's deliberation. Yamamoto would probably prefer being right next to him in case anything - _touch wood_ - happened. And Reborn often seemed less... well, intimidating wasn't the right word when it came to Hibari, but it would do. Reborn seemed less imposing when he was sitting beside someone rather than across from them.

Reborn dropped into the seat beside Tsuna, not bothering to hide his gaze as he scrutinized Hibari, who had managed to lose even more weight than before. If he had looked as if he weighed less than a pebble previously, he now looked like he weighed less than a piece of tissue. With gaunt cheeks and dark, sunken eyes, Hibari looked like he was just a set of bones with paper-white skin.

"Are you quite done, baby?" Hibari spoke. It wasn't really a question, but Reborn chose to take it as one anyway.

"No," he replied frankly. "Hibari... are you sure that you can win?"

Hibari turned his head, giving Reborn a sharp, harsh glare. "I am not so weak that I will _lose_."

Reborn shook his head, giving Hibari's wrist - now barely more than the width of two fingers - a pointed look. Then he turned his head up and looked Hibari straight in the eyes. "I am saying exactly that, Hibari."

"Hibari won't lose." It was with a brittle smile with which Yamamoto served them their soup. Setting the bowl in front of Tsuna, the closest, and then turning to Reborn, Yamamoto, with a hopeful little smile, explained, "He's the strongest. You said it yourself... And we all know Hibari doesn't lie."

With a seemingly casual shrug, Yamamoto turned back to the rice cooker and busied himself with filling their bowls.

Tsuna felt like his stomach was twisting into tight knots. He looked away from his Rain Guardian's back to study his Cloud Guardian's bony wrists. "I don't doubt that you would bite Byakuran-san to death... Reborn's worried for you, is all-"

Reborn interrupted him before he could continue, his tone cold and harsh. "You're the least of my worries, Hibari. Even if there is the slimmest chance that you might lose, or you might die before you get to face Byakuran, we have to prepare for it." He shook his head, "It's not just you who is at stake here."

Hibari opened his eyes, fixing Reborn with a cold, flat stare. He knew that the baby wouldn't blink, so he continued, "All this will be solved if I just bite Byakuran to death," he stated, shrugging. "I am not concerned if you decide to doubt me - I'll just do what I want to."

Facing away from the others, Yamamoto patted the rice into perfect round globes, expressionless. He checked the steamed egg. The eel looked about ready. Vegetables too. He'd said his piece, so he just focused on his dishes, and brought them over when he could look and them and faintly predict his father's approval. The thought of his father, still alive and well in this future that they'd made for themselves, cheered him up more.

A content smile was back on his face when he turned around. "All right then! Dinner is served!"

Tsuna looked at Yamamoto, somewhat relieved that he was acting more or less _himself_ now, instead of the way he'd been acting when Hibari was in coma. He didn't expect Hibari to act any different, dying or not. Reborn was being typically _Reborn_. Hee sighed - his tutor didn't have to say those things; Hibari probably knew better than anyone what was at stake.

But Tsuna understood. He understood that everyone was worried, and it was coming out in different ways. Reborn was making sure everyone had realistic expectations. Hibari was saving his energy to train and win, and Yamamoto was doing the best he could to stay positive and functional.

"That looks really good, Yamamoto," Tsuna smiled encouragingly, "Ne?" He looked at the other two.

Reborn looked at the spread in front of him and smiled slightly, content. Ah, it _was_ good to have a good cook amongst them. He picked up his chopsticks and nodded to the rest. "Itadakimasu."

Hibari simply picked up a piece of unagi with his chopsticks and popped it in his mouth.

"Itadakimasu!" Tsuna and Yamamoto looked at each other as their voices echoed, a habit that developed back when they were in school together. It was almost a ritual now, something constant that still annoyed Gokudera, but resulted in two reassured smiles saying there's still some semblance of normality in all the chaos.

***

Reborn put down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth clean with a napkin. Around him, he watched as Tsuna and Yamamoto put down their utensils as well. Hibari had stopped eating some time ago, but he hadn't even finished half of his plate. But that was to be expected, he supposed. He gave Yamamoto a glance, telling him to wake Hibari up from the doze he had fallen into.

"Gochisosama!" Yamamoto answered brightly in response. Momentarily, Tsuna went bug-eyed and quickly turned his attention towards Hibari, because, dear _heavens_, that man was known to wake at the flutter of a falling rose petal, and firsthand experience was phantom pain blossoming all over his body.

Yamamoto eyed Hibari with a soft, playful smirk, and Tsuna held his breath.

Hibari's eyes slowly blinked opened, and he sat up sluggishly on his seat. Covering his mouth as he yawned, he took in Yamamoto's smirk and Tsuna's wide eyes, and shrugged slightly. He leaned forward, dropping his elbow on the table and leaning his head on it. "You're too noisy, Yamamoto Takeshi," he said, voice crisp with barely a slur in it.

"I'll be quiet if you want to sleep," or _need_ rather, but Yamamoto didn't want to set Hibari off with _too_ much teasing. The guy was not fun to rile up, especially not in present condition. Mindfully, he quietly stacked up the plates and bowls. "Or just sleep here. I won't move your things this time."

Tsuna felt distinctly awkward, like he was missing part of the conversation. Move what things? What was last time about? What did this have to do with Hibari sleeping? Oh, he could feel a minor headache coming on.

"Wait," Reborn held up a hand before Hibari even started to open his mouth. He looked from Yamamoto to Hibari, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Then, he picked up his cup of coffee and sipped it, letting the silence sit between them before he spoke.

"Hibari, Yamamoto, I saw your match today," he nodded to the both of them. "I believe that you'll both benefit from training with each other, so I've cleared your schedules for the time being." Then, he turned to Hibari specifically. "Yamamoto will be more interesting than computer simulations."

Hibari shrugged, "Whatever you like. As long as you don't get into my way."

Yamamoto spared a second to blink curiously at Reborn before wiping his surprise away with a grateful, nodding smile. There was a crease between his brows as he glanced sideways towards Hibari, but before Tsuna could tell what to make of it, Yamamoto stood up, carrying the kitchen utensils to the sink.

"Haha," he continued conversationally, "Aren't I supposed to get in your way now?"

Tsuna resolved then to get his hands on the training room videos. Reborn however gave Tsuna a small, smug smile that told the man that he knew _exactly _what he was thinking about, and that it wouldn't be so easy to find out.

Hibari gave Yamamoto a flat stare, and then he smirked, baring his teeth as he leaned forward. "Then I'll bite you to death," he promised, dark eyes glinting with murderous and violent intent. He stood up in one fluid motion, his hand holding onto the back of his chair for balance as his head swam, and headed towards the door.

_Clang!_

Tsuna winced as the dishes got dumped in the sink, distracting him from alternatively scowling uselessly at Reborn and worrying for Hibari.

But that was all right. Yamamoto seemed to be worrying enough for all of them.

"Hibari!" The Rain Guardian was beside the Cloud Guardian in swift and giant steps. "Let's head back together," he blurted out.

_Gods, why is he acting like he's 15_, Tsuna squeaked. It was like watching a trainwreck in slow motion.

Hibari stopped at the door, a steadying hand on the doorframe as he turned to face Yamamoto, his eyes cold as he glared at the taller man. His tonfa materialized in his hand, but it was pointed downwards. "Yamamoto Takeshi," his voice was cold enough to freeze air. "I am not a child who requires your supervision. I can return to my room by myself."

Reborn's lips quirked up.

"Hibari... Kyouya. _Allow _me to be selfish," came a solemn response. "I want to walk beside you. I won't catch you if you don't fall."

Hibari could only blink at that. There was a strange feeling bubbling in his chest, something that sent warmth throughout his body. It reminded him of the Bucking Horse, and _that_ made him scowl, because the Cavallone confused him and Hibari disliked anything that defied the logic of his world.

Fingers tightening against his tonfa, Hibari stepped forward and pressed the cold metal against Yamamoto's throat again. "Let me make this perfectly clear," he said, tone silky and dangerous. "I do not need _anyone _to coddle me, especially not an herbivore like you." His smile widened; it wasn't a very pleasant expression.

"Don't think I haven't noticed. I might be weakened, Yamamoto Takeshi, but I am not weak."

Reborn watched Tsuna's eyes go wide and his mouth fall open, hiding his amused grin behind his coffee cup. He turned away from his idiot, slow student back towards Hibari and Yamamoto, leaning backwards. _Hmm, is there popcorn around here?_

"I know you're not," Yamamoto was saying, expression open, a little hurt, and entirely earnest. "As you say, and as I've said, you're not weak, but you _are_ weakened. We both know that it makes a difference." He frowned. He didn't want to put more stress on Hibari, but some things needed to be said. "All I'm saying is that if you fall, I want to be there to catch you. If you stand, then we can walk together." He reached behind his back to loosen the knot of the apron, leaning ever so slightly into the metal at his neck before moving away to slip the apron off over his head.

"We'd both benefit from training with each other," he repeated Reborn's words. "So please give me the chance to learn not to... hold back from you."

Hibari's brow furrowed, drawing together as he stared at Yamamoto, uncomprehending. The Rain Guardian might as well be speaking an alien language, for all Hibari understood of his little monologue. He shook his head slowly, leaning backwards and letting his tonfa drop back by his side. The Cavallone had said something similar once, and it had caused something that was almost the same as this strange feeling welling up inside him. It was something that made his head spin and his breath speed up and his heartbeat to pound in his ears.

Slowly, he raised a hand to his temple, shaking his head again. What Yamamoto had said was something significant - it struck him as something _important_. Yet all it seemed to do was to exacerbate his weakness further, and caused him to feel things that he simply_ didn't understand_.

Forget about 'why', Hibari didn't even understand 'what'.

"You..." he looked up again, a lip drawn between his teeth as he just stared at Yamamoto. "I am not a coward, Yamamoto Takeshi, and I never hold back when I fight. It does not matter if you do or not, because I will bite you to death in the end." He slid his tonfa back inside his sleeve. "I don't understand what you are talking about, but know this, Yamamoto Takeshi.

"I don't allow weaklings around me."

With that, he turned and walked away, heading for his room.

From the kitchen doorway, Yamamoto stared after Hibari. A second passed. Two seconds. A few countless more before Hibari slowly turned a corner.

Yamamoto darted after him without another word. There was no doubt in his mind now. Hibari wasn't going to stop and wait for him to catch up even if he asked. It was up to him. He _would_ become stronger.

***

Tsuna didn't know how long he stared at the poor forgotten apron in front of him, but it couldn't have been that bad. His cheeks, his ears were still on fire from what he'd heard. He sort of blanked out on the visuals as soon as the tonfa left Yamamoto's neck.

Reborn's smirk widened as he tipped his hat back. Reaching over, he closed Tsuna's mouth for him. "Stop gaping so widely, no-good-Tsuna," he murmured, sounding far too amused. "It's unbecoming of a boss."

"Yamamoto..." Tsuna began, blinking owlishly. "When..." He cocked his head, and took a deep breath. A couple actually, to force the blush to please, please, _please_ leave his cheeks. "When did he break up with Gokudera-kun?"

Reborn chuckled darkly, finishing his coffee and placing his cup back on the table. Leaning on the table, he stood up, a hand in his pocket. He stepped towards his so-very-naive student, whipping out a paper fan out of nowhere and whacking Tsuna on the head with it.

"Silly Tsuna," he said, like he was speaking to an especially idiotic three year old. "Those two were just fuckbuddies." He started to leave the kitchen, and then paused, turning back around.

"Oh, one more thing. Take care of the dishes, won't you?"

Tsuna croaked out an affirmative.

_TBC_


	11. Chapter 11

**Windshear   
**

Part 11/?

**Authors:** Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
Characters/Pairings:** Tsuna, Dino, Reborn, Hibari, Yamamoto, eventual Yamamoto/Hibari, something like Dino - Hibari.**  
Rating: **PG-13**  
Words: **5321**  
Summary:** Dino returns to help Hibari, and inevitably has a talk with Yamamoto.

Tsuna looked up, startled when his office intercom went off. He'd been staring at Hibari and Yamamoto's last few mission reports, but if anyone cared to ask, he was drawing a total blank on them. Surprisingly, neither gave much away. On individual missions, or team missions, those two always came back as clean as expected of them, if not entirely immaculate, save for that once....

Which was more than could be said for any of his other guardians, that was for sure... Mukuro excepted.

... Mukuro was an _entirely_ different story.

Truthfully, though he pressed the flashing intercom button with more force than was necessary, Tsuna was thankful for the distraction, but - _oops_ - it sent a high-pitched wail through both ends of the line. He winced.

And standing outside the door, Dino winced slightly at the sharp noise as well, but he shook his head and smiled slightly to Tsuna's secretary. He stuck a finger inside his ear and twisted it around, trying to get the ringing to stop, even as he opened the door to Tsuna's office.

Pasting a wide grin on his face, Dino waved. "Hey, Tsuna, you have some time to talk to your _aniki_?"

"Dino-san!" Tsuno stood up, and then fumbled to catch the stack of papers trying to slide off his desk. "Ye-Aah! Hang on- I mean, no! Come in! Gimme a sec!"

The papers were righted again, and Tsuna was not satisfied with this sort of distraction at all. Face flushed with embarrassment - especially since Reborn had been ever so proud to point out that his 'no good' student Dino had finally gotten over the need for the physical presence of his own family members around him in order to _be_ 'good' - Tsuna wanted to dig a hole in the ground...

"Um... Dino-san? Is this," Tsuna resisted the urge to bite his lip and just walked over to the blonde. "This is about Hibari-san, isn't it?"

Dino stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, leaning against it. His grin didn't leave his face as he scanned the room, eyes narrowed. It wasn't that he didn't trust Tsuna - of course he did, the man was family to him - it was simply instinct. But naturally, there weren't any visible surveillance around the place.

Closing his eyes, the blond took a long, slow breath. It didn't help. His eyes snapped back open and he took a step forward, nearly grabbing Tsuna by the shoulders.

"Just _what_ is going on, Tsuna?" He hissed lowly, throwing an arm out. "Yesterday, I came back to Italy and do you know what the first thing Bruno told me is? He told me that the Vongola and the Gesso are going to fight one-on-one tomorrow in the _Gesso compound_." He dragged a hand through his hair and resisted making a grab for his whip. "And not only that, he told me that the combatants are Byakuran and _Kyouya_, and guess what? Kyouya also seems to be _dying _of some sort of disease that no one seems to have the cure for!"

Turning away, Dino exhaled forcefully. "I don't like being kept out of the loop, Tsuna, especially not..." he bit his lip, then continued, "Especially not about Kyouya. He _was_ my student, you know."

Tsuna closed his eyes, then looked at the ground. "Hibari-san didn't want you to find out," he frowned. He knew this would only upset Dino but the man probably needed to hear the rest of it or he _wouldn't_ rest.

"Actually, Hibari-san didn't want any of us to find out. He thought he could beat the illness... But it's a biological weapon, and while Hibari-san is undeniably strong... he's still... "

Tsuna took a soft, shallow breath. "The Gesso has the cure. Byakuran-san will only hand it over if Hibari-san defeats him, and... Hibari-san will defeat him." Even if it was last thing he did.

Dino sighed, deep and heavy like he felt the weight of the world being placed on his shoulders. Crossing his arms, he turned away from Tsuna to stare out of the window. "I know that. Kyouya's own nature won't allow for anything else, but...

"I'm worried about what happens after _that_." He looked as if he might say more, but then he shook his head. "But there's no use worrying about it, really. Kyouya will do what he wants, and he _will_ pull through."

He looked at Tsuna again, eyes suddenly piercing and tone business-like. "I'm more concerned now about Byakuran. It's not safe for you to hold the battle in _his _home ground, Tsuna."

The younger man nodded initially, then gasped and looked at him. They hadn't thought to ask Dino for help at all due to Hibari's wishes, but now...

"Dino-san," Tsuna murmured. "You're suggesting...?"

Dino gave a smile, reassuring smile, resisting the urge to pat Tsuna on the head. "I'm suggesting that you guys use the Cavallone compound. I have an outdoor training field that you can use - Kyouya can destroy it as much as he like." He chuckled lightly, but it sounded strained, so he stopped. "It's too dangerous to go to his home ground, and stupid to let him come into yours." He shrugged.

"This way, it will be more neutral."

Tsuna had to agree. He found himself nodding again. "That's pretty much the same thing Reborn told me, Dino-san." Minus the 'stupid _student_' comments. "None of us really thought it would be a good idea... this entire situation."

He bit his lip, thinking of the bullet that had originally been meant for himself.

And shook his head vigorously to clear the thought. "I'll talk to Byakuran-san about this. And if that doesn't work, I'll talk to the other families in the Alliance. Your reasoning... You're right," Tsuna nodded. "We shouldn't hold the fight on Gesso or Vongola ground."

Dino nodded, smiling slightly and clapping Tsuna on the shoulder. "I'll call Romario and ask him to prepare the grounds for tomorrow. I'm sure that you can get Byakuran to agree with you, Tsuna."

Tsuna smiled meekly, heartened by the encouragement. He nodded again, "I'll do whatever it takes, Dino-san. We're all concerned for Hibari-san's sake.

"... Do you want to see him?"

Dino blinked, and then laughed sheepishly. He pulled a hand through his hair again. "Am I that obvious?"

To that, Tsuna laughed lightly. "Dino-san wouldn't be Dino-san otherwise."

***

In the observatory above one of the training rooms, Reborn's fingers traced lightly over the computer simulation controls, leaning back against the swivel chair as he looked at Yamamoto and Hibari through the glass. Usually he would leave the two of them at it, trusting them to be able to deal with training by themselves, but... the situation was different, now.

Besides, he wanted to see Yamamoto's reaction to Hibari's words yesterday night.

They moved swiftly before his eyes. The hot blue and purple flames of their resolve licked the air and, if not for the fog-proof coating on the lens of the many cameras that surrounded the training room, Reborn would see little else but shimmers of heat and colour.

Reborn's fingers glided across the glass. There's something to be said about desperation, he mused, as objective as only an assassin used to planning hundreds of meticulous deaths could.

Hibari was improving by leaps and bounds - his flame was approaching the sort of purity and clarity that Reborn himself thought only possible for the Sky flame. And Yamamoto...

Yamamoto was moving with a serious, _murderous _intent that coloured his movements with the sort of viciousness that Reborn rarely saw from him. Their will power sparked and spiked against each others', pressing and fighting against each other with as much intensity as their flames and physical bodies were.

Reborn smiled, his fingers stopping at a lever as Yamamoto executed the _Beccata di Rodine_ in mid-air. It wouldn't do for them to be complacent.

As Reborn pulled the lever and the training area dried up, a desert growing out of thin air, Tsuna entered the surveillance room.

"Reborn," Tsuna walked over and began. "Dino-san came over..."

And sure enough, the aforementioned man stood in the doorway with a bright smile to greet his ex-tutor. But it was quickly wiped away as his eyes strayed towards the twisting flames behind the thick glass.

Quickly, Dino walked into the observatory. The sight of the battle in the next room made his breath catch. It looked brutal. He'd never seen Yamamoto fight with such draconian resolve, and Hibari looked _cadaverous_.

Reborn tilted his head backwards to meet their eyes, nodding at them both. "Tsuna. Dino." Far from being surprised at Dino's entrance, he had expected it - after all, this silly student of his always had a particular attachment to his _own_ student, and he had returned to Italy yesterday.

If Reborn was surprised by anything, it was that Dino had taken this long.

He turned his attentions back to the two training as their flames spiked again, increasing in intensity. Whistling under his breath in appreciation as Hibari's flames seemed to get even purer and clearer, he shrugged slightly at Dino's obvious worry.

"He's not going to let this stop him, you know."

Dino tried to smile. Really, he did. "Aah," he finally said, nodding, his gaze riveted upon the fighters. "Kyouya looks horrible," he murmured mournfully, then seemed to catch himself.

"That's what happens when your own body is trying to kill you," Reborn replied idly to Dino, raising an eyebrow. Really, both of his students were far too soft.

"Yeah..." Deliberately, Dino turned to face Reborn and Tsuna, and took a deep breath before he began. "I'm offering the use of one of my family's training compounds for the fight," Dino informed Reborn.

Tsuna nodded, "Byakuran-san will agree to it. I'll make sure of that."

Reborn nodded again, letting a wry smile creep over his lips as he turned back to look out of the window. In the training room, Hibari made a mid-air spin in the midst of the desert storm and aimed an upper-cut with his tonfa towards Yamamoto, who blocked it with the hilt of his sword. Both of them seemed to have mastered using their flames to fly - their movements were smoother than in the morning.

Smile widening, Reborn turned the lever up a little more. The wind whipped up further, loud enough to be heard through the glass. Then, he nodded.

"Good. Go talk to him to get him to agree, Tsuna."

"I will," Tsuna took a half-step back. "Reborn, do you know where Chrome is? I want to talk to Mukuro about this first."

Dino blinked. "Your Mist guardians?"

Tsuna inclined his head, "I think I was too hasty when I spoke with Byakuran before. I walked into the meeting thinking of how he was like in... the future that we changed. I should have been more prepared...

"But I can't repeat that mistake again. And if anyone can fill me in on how different Byakuran is now, and how that man thinks, it would be Mukuro."

Reborn's lips curved, a small, almost approving smile hidden by the brim of his hat. Tsuna was growing up nicely - he was thinking like a boss now, able to handle the heavy burden on his shoulders with grace rather than trying to avoid it.

Stuffing a hand into his pocket, Reborn stood up, pushing himself away from the table by his fingertips. He headed towards the door, stopping right in front of it. "Chrome is in the kitchens. Come with me, Dino."

***

While Tsuna left in search for Chrome, Dino quietly followed Reborn downstairs. After a stretch of silence, Dino opened his mouth to ask 'how is he,' only to stop himself for being silly. Reborn was taking him into the training room. He could ask Hibari himself. Hell, he could see him up close.

Dino shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling as though there could have been more. He should have done more for Hibari, somehow... rather than just offering him a place to fight.

Reborn glanced at him, but did not speak. Dino was far too old to be reminded of things he should never forget - things such as 'behave like a proper mafia boss' - and Reborn doubted that his words would even get into his head anyway, given how occupied he seemed to be with Hibari's plight.

Really, his silly students... they made too many strong emotional bonds. They always seem to want to protect others, even if they didn't need protecting. Reborn chuffed mentally, and then placed his hand on the doorknob. He hadn't given Hibari and Yamamoto a formal warning, but, given that it was those two, they had probably known he was coming from the sounds of his footsteps.

He twisted the doorknob, and pushed open the door.

Sure enough, the boys had stopped fighting; when Reborn left the observatory, he hadn't been stupid. Throwing Dino or his other students into a raging desert was one thing, but he turned off the simulations because he didn't need that sort of training himself. And as expected, the boys kept fighting until they heard his approaching footsteps.

The Shigure Kintoki was held low by Yamamoto's side, in its harmless form.

Hibari had a tonfa against Yamamoto's ribcage, their bodies pressed close enough that he could hear Yamamoto's fast, heated breaths and feel the rise and fall of his chest. He was smirking widely, smug, even as he took a step backwards, turning to acknowledge Reborn's presence. The world spun on its axis, but he did not stumble.

"Why did you stop us?" his voice was barely above a whisper.

Reborn crossed his arms, "Tomorrow is the match. There is no need for you to exert yourself unneccessarily today. Besides..." he glanced to Dino, prompting him without words.

"Kyouya..." Walking quickly from the corridor into the training room, Dino bridged the distance, stopping just before his ex-student and the Vongola Rain guardian. "Yamamoto," he nodded in greeting. Honestly, Reborn was right. Hibari looked ashen, so close to death. It was a miracle he was still breathing, even if his breathes sounded shallow and laboured.

"Looks like you guys had quite the workout," Dino managed.

"It was, Dino-san." Yamamoto nodded. He smiled too easily, Dino thought, but then again, Yamamoto could smile at anything, couldn't he?

Hibari closed his eyes, his arms dropping back to his sides, limp. But he didn't let go of his tonfas - if anything, his hands clenched tighter around them as he took a long breath and lifted his head, meeting Dino's eyes.

"Bucking Horse," he stated tonelessly. But there was a certain angry heat in his gaze. _Stop pitying me._

"Kyouya," Dino answered warmly, seemingly oblivious to the warning in Hibari's eyes, "How are you feeling? Raring to go take a bite out of Byakuran?"

Hibari simply gave him a flat stare in response while Reborn chuckled beside him. "Of course." His lips drew back into a half-smirk, half-snarl as he whispered, "I'll bite him to death."

"Good," Dino nodded with an approving smile.

Then, he did something that surprised Yamamoto. Reborn expected it, of course, whereas Hibari... should have known.

When Dino suddenly pulled him into his arms, Hibari froze. Then immediately tried to push him away and draw his tonfas back to smash Dino's face in. But Dino had anticipated that, and pinned Hibari's arms to his side with the hug.

He growled at him, all teeth and feral rage. Hibari struggled within Dino's arms, trying to push him away. That Bucking Horse... he hadn't tried this in years, not since he married, but Hibari had let his guard down around him nonetheless. Fingers tightening around Dino's shoulders, Hibari tried to push him away, his breaths sharp and harsh and quick.

Dino held fast.

"Let... me... go," Hibari bit out, anger in his eyes.

But his captor just chuckled against his shoulder, and whispered, "Ah, Kyouya... I missed you. I came right over here when I heard what happened..." Finally, he stepped back and earnestly asked, "Why didn't you tell me what was going on?"

Yamamoto laughed at that, a slightly hollow sound that was starting to grate on Hibari's nerves. "Don't take it personally, Dino-san. Hibari didn't tell anyone."

Hibari's eyes were closed as he tried to regulate his breathing again. Training with Yamamoto had taken more out of his now-weakened body than he would have liked, and the struggle sent a sharp spike of pain down his spine as his lungs fought for air. When Dino finally released him, he raised his arms, pushing him further away and stumbling slightly back.

"It's none of your business anyway, Bucking Horse."

Dino reached out, as if it'd help keep Hibari from falling, but before then, Yamamoto had his freehand against the small of Hibari's back. Just a brief touch. After a second, wherein Hibari turned to glare at him, the young man retracted his hand and conversationally continued, "So, Dino-san, how's your family?"

Reborn's lips twitched. He turned away, chuckling softly at the situation. Perhaps the three of them were completely oblivious to the low, simmering tension between them, but Reborn himself was not. It was all terribly amusing really, but it was also rather disappointing and frustrating - if anyone should recognize it, Dino should, yet the man seemed just as oblivious as the other two.

It was just as well, Reborn supposed. If Hibari was aware that Dino and Yamamoto seemed to be unconsciously fighting over him, he would have bitten those two to death immediately, and right now, he couldn't spare the energy.

Hibari turned his glare towards Reborn for a moment, irritated by the laugh, before he gritted his teeth, nearly grinding them as his fingers tightened around his tonfa. Then he strode towards the door.

Dino was in the middle of answering Yamamoto, about Romerio watching over his wife and children, and that everything was fine. But when Hibari started walking away, he turned and called out to him instead.

"Kyouya," he caught up with him with a couple of quick, large steps. "... Tsuna's going to talk to the Gesso about changing your battle arena to more... _neutral_ ground."

Idly, Yamamoto wondered why he felt a little irritated towards the older man.

Hibari stopped in his tracks, but he didn't turn around. "The Cavallone compound, wasn't it?" A soft, dry chuckle escaped him, mirthless and derisive. "You seem to like to meddle, Bucking Horse. But very well."

He pushed the door open and left the room, heading for his own.

Reborn watched him go, noting with nearly objective eyes the tense set of Hibari's shoulders and the barely perceptible trembling of his hands. He shook his head, pulling the brim of his fedora down to shield his eyes. There was no use in worrying about Hibari.

Yamamoto reminded himself that Dino Cavallone was Hibari's mentor in the past; of course the man would be worried to the point of ignoring Hibari's personal space and whatnot. In fact, hadn't Yamamoto acted with as much concern?

But then... as Gokudera pointed out, he really liked Hibari. Really, _really_ liked Hibari. Heck, Reborn was probably as worried about Hibari as Dino was. Reborn was just better at hiding his emotions.

"Dino-san," Yamamoto smiled at the man brightly. "You really care about Hibari, don't you?"

Dino rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at the door from which Hibari left. He felt a little sheepish, a little uneasy, and a _lot_ helpless. Heaving a soft, deep sigh, he turned back to Yamamoto, giving him a slightly strained smile.

"Well, Kyouya was my student, you know?" He tried to keep his tone light. "And Reborn always told me that a good tutor keeps with his student until the end."

Reborn snorted, pivoting on his heel and heading for the door. "Don't bring me into this, Dino."

Yamamoto laughed, since he'd just been thinking about how, despite the obvious differences, Dino and Reborn could be so similar in certain ways. "I get it. My old man always tells me a good man should look out for his loved ones," he answered with an agreeable nod.

Dino's smile changed, growing wider and a little easier even as Reborn left the room. He let his hands drop back to his sides and shove them into his pocket. Loved ones.... huh?

Well, Yamamoto was a decent guy at least, if Dino wasn't misinterpreting his words.

"Yea," he nodded. "He should protect them the best he can, right?"

Yamamoto nodded back. "Or in Hibari's case, I guess it's fighting a good fight with him whenever he's up for it." He tilted his head inquiringly. "How was it like when you trained him?"

Dino laughed a little, walking over towards the wall and leaning against it. Crossing his arms, he tilted his head up to stare at the ceiling. Yamamoto seemed to know Hibari well enough, at least.

"Intense," he admitted. "That guy... he didn't admit defeat, not even when he was half-dead with exhaustion after fighting for two days straight without rest. He even forced _me _to improve, just by fighting him." He shook his head, and then turned to look straight into Yamamoto's eyes.

"I don't mean protection in only that literal sense, Yamamoto."

"Huh?" Yamamoto blinked, and then grinned, "You mean besides training him... and training with him, right?" He sheathed his sword, carefully putting it away in his black sword-bag. "Kusakabe-san said something like that before, too. That Hibari doesn't know when to stop and listen to his own body, and... get help, huh?"

Perhaps not that well at all. Dino's lips curved up into a smirk, half-amused and half-pleased. He shrugged a little, "Kyouya doesn't listen to his body in general. He does what he wants, and sometimes he goes too far."

He chuckled a little, lifting his eyes to look at Yamamoto through his lashes. "I supposed that Kusakabe would know best, yes."

"Yeah. That's why I asked him," Yamamoto admitted, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Actually, Kusakabe-san also said that you might know Hibari better in_ some_ regards. I just didn't want to ask you when Hibari didn't want anyone else to find out about... well, you know."

Dino's eyebrows twitched slightly at that, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Yamamoto. Then he shrugged, pushing away from the wall and shoving his hands into his pockets. He cocked his head to the side, "You're talking like you knew he was sick before everyone else did."

"I did."

Yamamoto blinked, unsure of why he was starting to feel a little antsy. There was a slight shift in the way Dino phased his... not-quite-statement. Question?

"Well, I found out before the rest of the Vongola did, but Kusakabe and Hibari's doctors knew beforehand. They _had_ to know."

He trailed off, recalling that first evening where the stars in the night sky outshone rustic Italian streetlights, only to be eclipsed by Hibari, leaning against the balustrade with a small cup of sake in his deceptively delicate hands. That evening when Hibari still seemed quite healthy, despite the fact that his lungs were slowly failing him, and he had looked so beautiful. Not sick.

It'd only been a soft cough, the first one. But he couldn't stop himself.

Yamamoto couldn't recall how long Hibari kept coughing, but thinking back about it made it seem like an eternity. He shook his head. "I was just there when he... started coughing."

Coughing... Dino's brow furrowed into a deep frown. From what he had heard from Bruno, what was wrong with Hibari was that his lungs were... collapsing into themselves, the cells breaking down one by one. There was nothing anyone could do - nothing _he_ could do - about it now. But Yamamoto... His eyes narrowed further.

"Yamamoto. _When_ did you know?"

"... It was... about two months ago," Yamamoto answered. He looked down at the happy memories that night that were now tinted with Hibari's condition. "The Ten Year Reunion party.

"I didn't know _what_ was going on in the beginning, and it looked bad, but he insisted he was all right. I did a bit of digging at Namimori hospital afterwards, but..."

The Ten Year Reunion party... Dino's fingers tightened into a fist. He was there, yet he hadn't noticed a single thing wrong with Hibari. During the entire night, he had glanced over to Hibari perhaps once or twice only, and noticed far too late when he had disappeared.

_Damnit_. His knuckles turned white from clenching his fist so hard. He himself was at fault for not noticing, yet...

"You knew for two months," his voice was level, almost friendly. "And yet you didn't do a _thing_. Or told_ anyone_."

Yamamoto flinched, and stared at Dino, shocked. Even he wasn't as oblivious as to let such an accusation fly over his head.

"I told Reborn, Dino-san," he replied with a clipped tone, just short of being downright curt. "I requested for missions with Hibari, made sure he ate, and..." He eyed Dino's hands, and then looked solemnly back into his eyes, "I got upset at everybody, too - just like you."

Dino shook his head sharply, viciously. He looked up at the curt tone, and the anger that he could hear in Yamamoto's tone only fed his. Taking two steps forward, he grabbed a fistful of Yamamoto's shirt and slammed him against the wall. His narrowed eyes, filled with rage, were the only things that betrayed his emotions - his face was completely smooth and serene.

He had learnt a few things over the years.

"No," he hissed softly. "No, you were not 'just like me'. You could have done more. For him. You could have told more people, hell, you could have told _me_." His hand tightened around the cloth. "No, it wasn't the same situation, because _you could have done something_, while I didn't know a thing."

Sword-bag sliding off his shoulder, Yamamoto fisted the strap and hung onto it tightly, as if that could restrain his rising anger.

Dino Cavallone, he reminded himself, wasn't there when _he_ was by Hibari's side when the other man fell comatose. He wasn't there when Yamamoto was beating himself up over not doing more for Hibari, not trying hard enough, not telling more people because he had believed, had hoped that everything would turn out all right as it always has. That hard work always pays off, and Hibari always worked hard to get his way. Dino wasn't there when Yamamoto realized how very wrong and idealistic he was.

"If I _had_ known then what I do now, I would have done more, for him," he whispered. "Dino-san." He took a deep breath. "I'm not your enemy."

Dino closed his eyes and exhaled. He knew; he _knew_ that he was being irrational. He knew that what he was doing was useless and perhaps even counterproductive. All he was doing now was lashing out at Yamamoto because Hibari's illness - Hibari's _impending death_ - simply wasn't something he could fight against. Dino had been too used to being able to fight against whatever that threatened his family - most often it was by using his whip, or his mind, or his connections. But...

But here was something he couldn't defend against. Here was something he was completely helpless to. Yamamoto could help Hibari by training with him, yet Dino was so late, so very late that the only thing he could do was to provide a neutral ground for Hibari's battle. For what might just become his _last_ battle.

Dropping his head to his chest, he let go of Yamamoto's shirt and moved over to lean against the wall beside him. His shoes seemed fascinating for all of five seconds before he spoke again.

"Sorry. It... wasn't your fault."

After a long stretch of silence, Yamamoto sighed and shook his head. "It's not yours either. Hibari's someone we both care about.

"And we're not the only ones. Everyone's been really upset." _To put it lightly._

Dino chuckled softly, but it was mirthless. "Yea. I can imagine that." He glanced at Yamamoto briefly, and then shrugged, straightening back up. "You all seem rather... close."

Yamamoto grinned then. "We're family," he shrugged. "I know Hibari likes to keep to himself more, but... he's always been there when we really need him..." He trailed off, thinking of all those times in their youth, when Hibari was the one who'd find him in a moment of weakness, and tell him to get back on his feet.

Dino found himself nodding immediately. "Yea," he smiled slightly, tilting his head up to stare at the ceiling. "Yea, Kyouya's always been like that. Stubborn as hell, always wanting his own way, refusing to work with others... yet somehow so very dependable." He shook his head. "He's such a contradiction."

Again, Yamamoto found himself in agreement. He nodded, sighed softly, and his next words tumbled out in an unbidden, despairing hush.

"I really like him."

Dino blinked at the sudden confession, whipping around to stare at Yamamoto for a long moment, his mouth falling open slightly. Then he closed his eyes, shaking his head and chuckling under his breath. Well, at least the younger man realized it soon enough... Dino stared at the gold band on his ring finger.

Then, he seemed to perk up, an easy smile curving his lips again as he looked at Yamamoto. "Yea. It's sort of easy to tell."

Yamamoto was staring at the floor, the faintest of blushes upon his cheeks. He scratched his head and laughed lightly, peering up at Dino again as he answered, "It _is_, isn't it? Haha, I don't think Hibari can tell though."

"Kyouya is sort of dense," Dino answered frankly, scratching lightly at the tattoo on the back of his hand. "Even if you might be as obvious as a blinking Christmas tree in the middle of summer, he won't get it." His tone was wry, amused, and just slightly resigned.

He tapped a finger against his lip, tilting his head to the side and returning Yamamoto's stare. "Do you know the way he thinks?"

"Huh?" Yamamoto started back at him blankly, half imagining Hibari's reaction to a decorated Christmas tree on a beach.

Dino took in the entirely confused look on Yamamoto's face. For a moment, he let the frisson of smug pleasure run through him before he straightened himself and shook it out of his mind. Yamamoto was...

Just as dense as Hibari was, if not more. His lips twitched slightly.

But he held back the laughter and simply grinned at the other man. "I think you're sort of dense too." He let a laugh escape his lips. "But it is okay, I suppose."

"Ahahaha, that's what Gokudera says all the time," Yamamoto quipped. _Without the second part_, he didn't bother to elaborate.

He shouldered his sword-bag again. "... Hibari's probably taking a shower right now. I'm gonna grab a quick one myself. I'll see you later, right, Dino-san?"

Dino nodded, his grin widening slightly, "Yea. You all aren't getting rid of me so easily."

"Haha," Yamamoto laughed. Then schooled his face and bowed. "Thank you..."

He grinned sheepishly, straightened up and turned around, feeling lighter for having confessed what he felt. Though Yamamoto couldn't bring himself to tell Hibari, what with the man's fight with Byakuran tomorrow, telling Dino did _something_ good nonetheless.

_TBC_


	12. Chapter 12

**Windshear   
**

Part 12/?

**Authors:** Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
Characters/Pairings:** Tsuna, Chrome, Byakuran/Mukuro, eventual Yamamoto/Hibari, something like Dino - Hibari. Hibird pwns all.**  
Rating: **PG-13**  
Words: **5147**  
Summary:** Mukuro plays messenger to Chrome, Tsuna and Byakuran, while Yamamoto caters to Dino, Hibird and Hibari. Or something like that.

"Thank you, Chrome." Tsuna took a step back with a half-sheepish, half-grateful smile and politely averted his eyes as his female Mist Guardian allowed the male one possession of her body once again. The transformation wasn't exactly an inappropriate sight, but it always felt awkward for Tsuna.

"You're _quite_ welcome..." Mukuro chuckled lightly, tossing his long ponytail from his shoulder to behind his back. He smiled wickedly and stepped forward, leaning downwards until he is looking directly into Tsuna's eyes.

"Good evening, Tsu. Na. Yo. Shi. Kun~ You've... _asked_ for me?"

Tsuna blinked at the all too disturbingly happy tone and stared at the man with doe-eyed bewilderment. "Mukuro...?"

Then, he caught himself. "I mean! Yes! I need your help, for Hibari-san... About Byakuran-san..."

Mukuro sobered immediately at the mention of Hibari's name, though a teasing smirk still remained on his lips. He shook his head slightly at himself at the slip - Byakuran must have been influencing him more than he realized.

He tilted his head slightly, "What is it of me that you want, Tsunayoshi-kun?"

"... Dino-san offered the use of the nearby Cavallone compound for the fight, Mukuro. It's _neutral_ territory, comparatively speaking." Tsuna's fingers curled slightly, and then uselessly relaxed. "I need Byakuran-san to agree to the change in setting. Is there anything you can do or think I can do to... make sure he'd agree?"

The Cavallone, hm...? From what his dear Chrome had told him about the previous world - the ruined one; the one where he died by Byakuran's hands - the Cavallone was targeted as well, after the fall of the Vongola. Mukuro wouldn't be surprised that Byakuran of this world would go after them too.

But it was only if the Vongola lost. If _Hibari_ lost. And, Mukuro chuckled, that notion was rather impossible to imagine, even with the circumstances.

"Don't worry, Tsunayoshi-kun. Byakuran doesn't want to risk coming over to the Vongola compound either. Kufufufu..." He reached over and stroked Tsuna's cheek lightly. "I'll inform him of this, and my dear Chrome will tell you when I manage to... convince him."

Tsuna flushed brightly at the touch. Coming from Mukuro, he was aware that the teasing gesture was supposed to be reassuring rather than condescending, but it was still a little embarrassing, like when Chrome sometimes kissed him on the cheek for no particular reason.

"What are you going to do?" Tsuna asked, concern clouding his amber brown eyes.

Mukuro blinked at that, and then laughed again. He moved a little closer, into Tsuna's personal space, and leaning in so close that his breath most likely tickled Tsuna's ear. He grinned to himself.

"That, Tsunayoshi-kun, is a secret," he murmured, half-seductive. "It's not so easy to make me reveal my ways~"

Tsuna looked up, searchingly, and started to lean back slightly although his feet felt rooted to the spot - which felt like the normal reaction when he had to deal with Mukuro... in non-combat situations. Regardless, there were more pressing matters to think about.

"Shouldn't I talk to Byakuran-san as well? He's... different from how I remember him. From ten years ago, in the future. We've all changed quite a lot, but with him..." Absentmindedly, Tsuna chewed his bottom lip. "I can't quite read him," he finally admitted. "I can't help but think that no matter what we want from him... He's going to be difficult."

Mukuro shook his head immediately, leaning back slightly against the kitchen counter. His arms crossed on his chest, fingers curling slightly as if around a trident. "No. From what I've heard of _that_ world... it would be best if you don't go near Byakuran."

Then, he smirked, "Don't you _trust_ me to do this, Tsunayoshi-kun~"

"Yes, but-!" Tsuna stepped forward, clutching a hand to his chest, "In _that_ world, you had to fight him, and..." He frowned, brows creasing as he remembered learning about Mukuro's fate in that timeline.

"I died," Mukuro stated blandly, staring out of the kitchen window. His fingers tightened a little more before he smiled again, relaxing them and his shoulders as he looked at Tsuna once more.

"I'm... happy to know that you are worried for me, Tsunayoshi-kun," he chuckled a little. "But you have no need to - I will be fine." His smile was lopsided and his red eye flashed as he continued.

"He _likes_ me, you see."

Something in his tone made Tsuna think rather inappropriate thoughts about his Mist Guardian's relationship with the Head of the Gesso family, but he pushed it to the corner of his mind and pressed on.

"You won't try to fight him," he stated, taking another step closer. "You won't die this time, because you won't put yourself in danger like that."

Mukuro was still and quiet for some time. Part of him rebelled - the Vongola Tenth was practically _ordering_ him, and he severely disliked being told what _not_ to do. Even by the mafia. _Especially_ by the mafia. He had enough of that with his ordeals in the Estraneo family and the Vendicare.

Yet Tsuna seemed to want a _promise_ from him because he was concerned, and, to be perfectly honest, Mukuro could see why he was. The last time he had confront Byakuran directly ended up with him dead, and he would rather not repeat that. That was really why he and Byakuran danced around each other and played such complex games.

Well, there was the part that it was fun too, but that was - unlike what most would think - rather secondary to his self-preservation.

Mukuro's smile softened as he looked into Tsuna's eyes. He pulled a hand through his ponytail before nodding. "I won't, Tsunayoshi-kun."

It was the rare sight of Mukuro genuinely smiling that reassured Tsuna. More than spoken words. More than anything. Tsuna smiled back. It wasn't until then that he realized how tense his shoulders had gone. Letting them relax again, he took a deep breath, and nodded. "All right, Mukuro."

He studied the taller man's face for a moment longer, like he wanted to say something. Apologize for putting him through this... this dangerous _thing_ he was doing with Byakuran, which kept Mukuro away from the rest of his friends: Chrome, Chikusa and Ken...

Tsuna bit his lip, and then smiled again. "I'll wait for your good news."

Mukuro laughed, "Kufufufu, I won't take too long, Tsunayoshi-kun." With a final smile and a small little wave, he closed his eyes and followed the red path back into his own body, back at the Gesso's Roman base.

Chrome was smiling too when she opened her eyes. Tsuna jumped a little when she kissed him on the cheek before excusing herself.

***

Mukuro opened his eyes to white hair, slightly damp, and a hand gently stroking his head. He blinked slightly, a smile coming automatically to his lips. Byakuran was nibbling on a marshmallow. He licked his fingers clean of the stickiness, light-coloured eyes not leaving Mukuro's.

"Had a nice trip?" he asked pleasantly, tilting his head to the side.

"Kufufufu..." Mukuro laughed lightly, and then shrugged. "Not as nice as being back home."

Byakuran smiled indulgently, and lifted the crystal cover over the marshmallow bowl. Without looking, he slid the towel from his shoulders and slung it over the back of a chair.

"Mukuro-kun says the sweetest things," he mused as he settled down beside him, lying on the bed. "Always indulging my sweet tooth~"

Mukuro let his eyes run appreciatively up and down Byakuran's pale chest, not bothering to hide his gaze. His smile widened slightly, taking a rather seductive edge when he looked back up to meet Byakuran's eyes again.

"Thank you~" he leaned back further into the sheet, shifting towards his left. "The Vongola Tenth said something interesting."

"And Mukuro-kun feels like sharing, hmm?" Byakuran's tone stayed singsong and amused. With idle fingers, he traced small circles around one of Mukuro's nipples, playful, but they both knew he wasn't really _asking_.

Mukuro shifted slightly on the silk sheet, his smile unwavering. He moved closer to Byakuran, his fingers starting to 'walk' up the other man's thigh. "He suggested moving tomorrow's main event to the Cavallone compound."

"Oh?" Byakuran paused, and then hummed as he thought about it, sliding his fingers up towards Mukuro's throat. He supposed it had its merits. Although... hadn't the Vongola initially agreed to meet him at the Gesso compound already?

"What do _you_ suggest, Mukuro-kun?"

Now, this was dangerous ground. Mukuro knew that this was yet another stage in their game where Byakuran seemed to hold all the cards - a wrong move, and Mukuro would be dead faster than Reborn could draw and shoot. His eyes were half-lidded as he looked up towards Byakuran.

Tapping on a lip, he cocked his head to the side, "Hmm... it's rather dangerous for Byakuran-san to invite the Vongola here right now... They _are_ rather angry at you, after all."

Byakuran leaned forward and nuzzled Mukuro's neck lightly. A chuckle against the soft flesh. A kiss over the hollow of his throat. "It'd seem _very_ unprofessional of them," he commented, "To be so indecisive, let alone allowing their feelings to colour their actions."

Mukuro hummed under his breath in appreciation, tilting his head backwards to give Byakuran more access to his throat. He chuckled, running a hand through white hair. "Well, the Vongola Tenth has always been rather... kufufufu, _unorthodox_, shall we say?" He leaned in and grazed Byakuran's ear with his teeth.

"Think of it this way, Byakuran-san," Mukuro whispered into the shell of his ear. "You can _look_ at the Cavallone compound all that you want~"

Another hum, another pause; Byakuran was considering it. That much was evident. But what wasn't clear to Byakuran himself was why the Vongola Tenth suddenly suggested such a thing. At first, he'd agreed on coming back, almost as if to show that he wasn't scared and that he trusted the Gesso wouldn't do more than the terms they'd agreed on.

So what changed?

Byakuran leaned back into the hand caressing his hair. "I could..." But he didn't feel vested in the idea either way.

At length, he shrugged. "Tell him I accept the Cavallone's kind offer..." He was a gambler after all. "And tell my Rain Guardian to inform the others, please?"

Mukuro laughed again, nodding. "I'll inform the Vongola Tenth, and Gloxinia-kun, then," he said cheerfully. That man hated him, Mukuro knew. He hated him for being of the Vongola, of having Byakuran's attention and, most of all, beating him in a battle of illusions. He chuffed quietly, almost vindictive.

Reaching up, he traced Byakuran's lip with light fingers and arched up to kiss him. "Shall we move on to more pleasant things now, Byakuran-san?"

"I prefer Mukuro-kun not distracted while in bed with me," Byakuran chuckled, kissing his fingers and kissing him once more. "You do so enjoy agitating Gloxina-kun, don't you?" He gave a mock sigh and shook his head.

Mukuro laughed, a little breathless. He usually didn't start reacting this quickly, but Byakuran seemed to like it when he played up his reactions. It was just a part of the game, really, he thought to himself.

Then, he reached inside himself and took hold of his connection to Chrome. Murmuring quickly to her about the situation, he thought about telling Gloxinia now about the change in venue. No... it would certainly be more _fun_ to tell him when he and Byakuran finished having their fun tonight.

After all, the joy of the afterglow had to be shared, hmm?

Chuckling softly to himself, Mukuro refocused back on Byakuran, who had seemed to brighten up from his sigh. The older man chortled under his breath before speaking again.

"I made a new song, .~"

Tilting his head to the side, Mukuro smiled teasingly, "Oh? Would you sing it to me, Byakuran-san?"

Byakuran smiles serenely, taking his time to stroke his fingers through long, dark hair. After a moment's silence, he drew a breath and softly sang.

"Hush-a-bye baby, on the treetop," Byakuran broke off with a chuckle and whispered conspiringly, "It fits. Bear with me." As he continued, "When you climb up," he kissed Mukuro's lips, the tip of his nose, and his forehead... "In its house you'll stop.

"There is a power I seek and keep,  
That'll quiet poor babies when they must weep."

Mukuro's eyes widened, but he didn't move. His body remained relaxed, nearly limp on the bed as he looked up to Byakuran. His mind was whirling - this song... it was significant. Byakuran never did anything without a million reasons behind the most obvious.

"When baby's drowsing, cosy and fair,  
Reach round its neck, it won't need for air."

Byakuran curled his thumb and forefinger around Mukuro's neck as he sang. It was a clue; a hint. About what, Mukuro didn't know yet, but...

He would find out, wouldn't he?

His smile widened, and he tilted his head slightly, nuzzling Byakuran's wrist and indicating that he was listening. The man smiled back reassuringly, apparently pleased with Mukuro's reaction.

"Like stealing candy, it's not too hard,  
To pluck out the bullet lodged in its heart."

Mukuro faintly recalled that the song had about three verses, so he stayed silent. Sure enough, Byakuran continued after a moment.

"Rock-a-bye, baby, silent as sleep,  
What's sown must be reaped, twice, just as deep." He tapped the man's chest.

"For if Cloud breaks... Hm..." Byakuran licked his lips and conversationally continued, "I think they'll all fall." He laughed, and sang the rest, "And down will come baby, Sky-kun and all~!"

As Byakuran gaze at him with a half-lidded, but bright-eyed look of anticipation, Mukuro thought his heart had stopped. Here- _here_, Byakuran was telling him, in his own endlessly cryptic and roundabout way about the whereabouts of the cure. The cure... Mukuro ran the words again and again over his head, memorizing them, remembering every single word.

The experiments that had been done on him had given him a photographic memory as well. But... Mukuro wasn't taking any chances.

_My dear Chrome_, he began, and continued immediately. He knew she was listening - she always was. _Get a pen and paper, and please copy this down._

Chrome, clever girl she was, realized what was happening immediately. Mukuro felt the affirmation, felt the smooth feel of a pen in her hand, and recited the song to her as best he could.

_Be careful, Mukuro-sama_, Chrome said, quietly, warningly. Absentmindedly, Mukuro promised he would, his mind already turning back to the riddle. But meanwhile- he smiled at Byakuran.

"You have a beautiful singing voice, Byakuran-san," he said, wrapping his fingers around Byakuran's wrist. He brought the hand to his mouth and kissed the knuckles.

That garnered a light-hearted laugh. Byakuran shook his head, and draped himself over Mukuro's body, eyes peering into his, but not quite focusing on him in particular. "Thank you...

"You make a wonderful audience."

Mukuro chuckled at that - so Byakuran _had_ noticed Chrome's presence. He had expected any less of him, really. In fact, if Byakuran hadn't noticed, Mukuro would be rather disappointed in him. He arched up slightly and kissed his nose, almost as if they were only playful lovers.

"You're far too kind, Byakuran-san~"

Another laugh. "I do so like you, Mukuro-kun~"

***

"I really like him," Yamamoto had said. "I don't think Hibari can tell though."

Alone, walking through the corridors and on his way to check in on his beloved ex-pupil, Dino smiled ruefully to himself as he thought over Yamamoto's words.

He didn't understand. Oh, he got the message: Yamamoto Takeshi had fallen for Hibari Kyouya. That part was loud and clear.

But how could he just say so, just like that?

As far as Dino knew, Yamamoto was a... a nice guy. _Single_. Probably dated the Hurricane Bomber until god knows when, but Dino hadn't kept track of him; the _natural born hitman_ was Reborn's prospective protégé, or pet project... or something. Dino knew Yamamoto as a friendly, popular individual - hell, Superbi Squalo of the Varia _only_ made about a hundred sword fight videos for Yamamoto for some reason or other, which was to say, Yamamoto certainly had a knack for exceeding expectations, most often in a good way.

He's... all right.

Dino stopped in front of Hibari's door, about to knock when he stopped and stared at the plain gold wedding band around his finger again. He thought of his wife, a childhood friend, and their beautiful children waiting for him back home.

He smiled. Yamamoto could fight Hibari at least. And he could take care of the brat when he couldn't take care of himself, not to mention...

Shaking his head, Dino knocked. Thinking of worst case scenarios wouldn't be helpful to anyone.

Hibari could barely hear the knock over the noise of the shower. His fingers tightened around the tap and slammed it viciously to the left, gritting the teeth at the icy cold water hitting his skin. The black spots trying to crowd into his vision fled at last, and he breathed a little easier even as his body shuddered under the chill.

Switching off the shower when all the lather on his body had been washed away, Hibari dried himself with minimal movement and slipped on his customary black yukata. He stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel slowly through his hair. His head pounded steadily behind his eyes, a different rhythm to the knocking on the door. Collapsing straight into the couch and closing his eyes, Hibari simply tried to regulate his breathing again.

That simple task was getting harder and harder every single minute. But Hibari just clenched his jaw and breathed through his teeth, forcing his lungs to expand, to take in air even though it sent a sharp spike of agony through him. His hand gripped onto the back of the couch and he pulled himself back up, settling back in properly.

Hibird was flitting around the room, utterly silent. Almost cautiously, the little piece of yellow fluff flew close to him. Hibari's lips curved upwards slightly, and he raised a finger, letting the bird perch on it for moment before he nudged it over to the door.

"Hibari, Hibari!" The bird chirped, flying in circles around the door. "Come in, come in!"

Dino was starting to get worried when there was no response for so long, but he smiled at that high pitched invitation from Hibird. He turned the knob and opened the door slowly, careful not to smack it into that flying ball of cute.

"Hey," he peered into the room, his expression freezing, but just for a moment, when he saw how terribly pale and tortured Hibari looked. He didn't bother asking if he could come in. Just entered, closing the door behind him quietly. Hibird flew in to perch on his shoulder. He grinned at the clever canary - or whatever species it was, no one had managed to figure it out - trying to make a nest within his jacket's fur collar.

As Hibari was so very sensitive to sound, Dino walked closer as quietly as he could.

"Kyouya..." Dino slid into the seat beside him. "How are you feeling?" _Eh, stupid question_. "Are you up for dinner?"

Hibari cracked an eye open, breathing shallowly through his parted lips. He could tell that it was the Cavallone who entered the room, therefore he didn't bothered to make the effort to look presentable.

Besides, those stupid questions just proved that it was him anyway.

He glared half-heartedly at him, and then exhaled softly. "Yamamoto Takeshi." It was as much of an answer as anything.

He ignored the first question - if Dino couldn't tell, then he really was an idiot.

But then again, 'Yamamoto Takashi' didn't strike Dino as an answer to either of his questions. He blinked, confusion evident in his eyes. "You mean- Are you going to have dinner... with him?" Dino eyed the loose clothing that Hibari barely seemed to fill. "You look about ready... to sleep, Kyouya."

Hibari simply nodded, opening his eyes again. He pushed himself upwards until he was no longer sprawled all over the couch, but leaning back against it. He gave Dino a flat stare, and laughed slightly.

"If I don't eat, I will die," he shrugged.

Dino grimaced, falling silent.

"...Well," he forced words out of his mouth, feeling a need to fill the air with something. "He said he'd be taking a shower. Does he bring you food, or do you meet him in the kitchen later?"

How much did it hurt Hibari to move though?

"Quiet, Bucking Horse," Hibari said, nearly wheezing out the words. He already had enough trouble breathing without having to answer the Cavallone Don's inane questions.

It was the little bird between them that broke the resulting silence, its bright voice singing the Namimori anthem, bringing a nostalgic smile to Dino's face.

Some time later, there was a knock on the door. Hibird broke off, and flew over to Hibari's shoulder with an anxious little peep.

Hibari smiled slightly and lifted a finger, pointing at the door again. Hibird bobbed in the air, like it was nodding, and took off towards the door. "Come in, come in!"

The knob turned and Yamamoto peered in. He didn't seem the least bit surprised when he saw Dino sitting beside Hibari. In fact, "Haha, I thought you'd be here, Dino-san." Yamamoto showed himself in, and let the door shut by itself behind him.

He held three thermos flasks in one arm, one of them hanging off his hand by its hemp strap. Hibird flew around him, or rather the curious look of tonight's food. "Dinner time?" the bird asked. Yamamoto nodded, echoing those words in reply. He set the food down on the table in front of the couch.

"You haven't had dinner yet, right, Dino-san? I hope you feel up for ocha-zuke." He held out bottle to the man.

Dino blinked at the flask in front of him, taking it almost by reflex. The Japanese terms confused him - he had never heard those two words put together before. 'Ocha-zuke'... tea... rice? He blinked again, looking at Yamamoto with a rather confused expression.

Weighing the bottle in his hand, he raised an eyebrow at Yamamoto. "What's this?"

Beside him, Hibari held out his hand for his own bottle wordlessly, not even bothering to acknowledge Yamamoto's presence otherwise.

"It's just green tea over white rice," Yamamoto loosened the lid on one of the bottle as he spoke. As he handed it to Hibari, he paused in the explanation to let him know the thing was hot, then continued, "Chopped salmon, vegetables, seaweed, sesame seeds... a bit of sea salt..."

What was that strained look on Dino's face?

Dino looked entirely too curious as he twisted the cap off his own bottle, peering inside. "Eh? So it's like porridge? How interesting." He gave Yamamoto a smile, pouring a little of the food out into the cap. He leaned in and sniffed it, "It smells good, Yamamoto."

Hibari's hands, meanwhile, threatened to shake as he nearly snatched the bottle from Yamamoto, glaring at him for opening it for him. He did not need the help. Pouring out the ocha-zuke, he leaned back against the couch and sipped it.

"Ahaha, thanks, Dino-san," Yamamoto responded as if he hadn't noticed Hibari's obvious glare. He sat down in the armchair adjacent to the couch and poured himself a cup.

Hibird chirped at him as he raised the cup to his lips. He quirked a smile at it and picked out a larger chunk of cooked salmon, offering it up to the bird, who snatched it away to peck at it on the table.

... _Definitely not a herbivore, that one_. Yamamoto looked back at them. "How's the food?"

Dino blew lightly on the surface before drinking it down. His smile brightened, "It tastes pretty good too. Green tea, with more flavour." He turned towards Hibari, still smiling, "How is it, Kyouya?"

Hibari gave both of the noisy idiots a flat, uninterested stare before continuing to eat slowly.

"Not bad then," Yamamoto surmised. "That's good..." He looked from Hibari to Dino, then quickly away again, hiding a silly little grin against the cup because it was funny... He told Dino that he really liked Hibari. He told him like he was talking about the weather. But in front of Hibari... well...

As Dino ate his tea over rice, he wracked his brain for a topic, any topic, to break this tense, awkward silence. He _hated_ silence - it was something unnatural to him. Dino had grown up in a noisy household, full of chatter all around him. Even while he was in his office working on his paperwork, there would be the welcome noises of the _famiglia's_ children outside, playing on the ground - sometimes with his own children; or the sound of Romario and his own breathing, or even the tinkling of music...

Technically, this wasn't entirely silent - Hibird was occupied with dinner and he could hear their breaths, Yamamoto's regular and deep, Hibari's shallow and fast - but it was silence in a ways he hated. Dino sighed mentally, and then turned to Yamamoto, just slightly desperate.

"How is that Gokudera recently, Yamamoto?"

_Gokudera?_ Yamamoto blinked and swallowed his food a tad slower when it suddenly occurred to him that, funny enough, he wasn't sure. If anyone asked him a few months ago, he would have answered right off the bat.

"I don't know," he answered sheepishly. Mental note: pay more attention to your best friend. "Why?"

There was a flash of surprise in Dino's eyes - now that was unexpected. Usually, it was simple to get a report of the Hurricane Bomber's activities - they just had to ask Yamamoto. But now Yamamoto...

Well, that just proved that he was paying far more attention to Hibari now, then. Dino chuckled slightly, shaking his head.

"No, it's nothing. I just didn't see him while I was with Tsuna just now."

"Oh... haha, that _is_ rare, isn't it?" Yamamoto scratched his head, and took another long drink.

Gokudera's whereabouts... "I can guess where he might be, but all I can really say is that he's not here." Either he'd gone on one of his hermitic training pilgrimages in preparation for whatever could happen tomorrow, or he was on a mission; there was no way Gokudera would leave Tsuna's side otherwise.

_And where'd you think all those Rain and Cloud missions went, huh?_

The thought sent a chill down Yamamoto's spine.

Hibari swirled the bottle cap in his hand before tipping it back and swallowing the rest of it slowly. He then closed it back and put it on the table, sinking back into couch.

"Gokudera Hayato and Sasagawa Ryohei are taking up the official missions we were assigned to," he said, voice almost slurring. He had let his eyes slide close.

Dino was silent for a moment, and then sighed. "Unfortunately, the Gesso isn't the only ones targeting the Vongola."

"Well, if it's not one team it's another," Yamamoto shrugged. He stared at the flask in his hand, a tired little smile upon his lips. "How do you do it?" He looked up at Dino, earnest. "Taking care of family members, and then... letting them..."

"Letting them go on missions?" Dino continued for him, taking an intelligent guess. Sneaking a glance at Hibari, Dino chuckled lightly, looking down at his cup of tea rice. "It is _because_ they are my _famiglia_ that I let them do such things. I trust in their strength to protect the rest of the family from... well, the rest of the mafia. And at the same time, I take care of them by making sure that they aren't given missions that they couldn't do."

Yamamoto chuckled. "So... you're like the coach." Meaning Dino and Tsuna had to study the strengths and weaknesses of all the members of their team, their _famiglia_, so that they could figure out who to send out on the field, when, where and in which formations.

Dino shrugged, "Something like that." He was about to continue and elaborate more on it when Hibari cut in, sounding utterly irritable despite the lack of much voice.

"If you two herbivores wish to _talk_, get out," he rasped at them.

Dino winced slightly - it sounded as if it took Hibari incredible effort to even speak a _word_, much less a sentence - but he forced a smile and false cheer onto his face to cover up the worry and concern he knew was unwanted.

"Hey, Kyouya," he held up his hands, giving him a placating smile, as if there was nothing wrong and they had returned to those days before Hibari fell so sick and Dino got married. "Calm down, all right?"

"_Say_~ Dino-san," Yamamoto stood up then, screwing the cap of his flask shut. "It's getting late. Let's get out of here so Hibari can rest!"

Hibari snapped his mouth close, cutting off the remark he was going to make. He took a long, rather shallow breath and shook his head, leaning back against the couch and closing his eyes.

Dino watched him for a moment, and wished so terribly hard to be able to do something, _anything_, to be able to help him. He just looked so fragile, as if a slightly rougher touch would shatter him into a million pieces. Oh, he knew that Hibari was strong - how could he ever forget? Yet...

He sighed and nodded, standing up from the couch.

"Yea. Let's go, Yamamoto." He turned and gave Hibari a small smile, though he knew that the younger man wouldn't be able to see it. "Good night, Kyouya."

"Later," Yamamoto simply said, because there just had to be a later. He picked up Dino's flask, leaving Hibari's untouched, gave a simple hand wave, and then paused at the door to address Hibird. "Hey..." The small thing flew over, chirping in acknowledgement and Yamamoto grinned as it landed on his finger. "Find me," he said, "if you need anything, okay?"

"Find! Fine! Okay! Okay!" Hibird went off again, flying around Yamamoto and Dino, as if to say goodbye without really saying it. Hibari's shoulder was its next landing target.

Yamamoto looked away with a soft smile and glanced at Dino. Quietly, after they shut the door behind themselves and started down the corridor, he said, "There's more food in the kitchen."

"... Ah."

_TBC_


	13. Chapter 13

**Windshear   
**

Part 13/?

**Authors:** Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
Characters/Pairings:** Everyone except their parents and the Varia. And no Souichi Irie today. Byakuran/Mukuro, eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.**  
Rating: **PG-13**  
Words: **5951**  
Summary:** The fight begins.

Reborn stood at the door, arms crossed and eyes hidden beneath his fedora. This morning was a crucial one for Hibari and the Vongola both, and Reborn was making sure that absolutely _nothing_ would go wrong. He scanned his eyes over his surroundings, taking note of the four black Ferraris pulling out of the garage to line up along the porch. He had, of course, made sure that the drivers were all people that he deemed trustworthy for the purpose - Romario, Kusakabe, Kakimoto, and Bianchi herself - and the cars themselves were safe. Reborn doubted that Byakuran would sabotage their cars, but there were enemies other than the Gesso and it wouldn't hurt to be too careful.

Watching as Hibari - their star of the day - get into the second Ferrari, he nodded at the suit, well-cut enough to disguise Hibari's current skeletal frame as simply 'slender'. Reborn had the Vongola tailors rush it out last night, because Hibari's current wardrobe would simply fall off him and be a hindrance. Besides, none of them wanted to give Byakuran the satisfaction to see how _weakened_ Hibari was.

First impressions always count.

The fact of the matter was that Hibari's physical appearance and the force of his own will both contributed to the strength of his presence. Appearing weak, Mukuro had warned them, would encourage Byakuran to play cat and mouse with Hibari, toying with him at length and tiring him out before moving in for the kill. Too strong, and the opposite would happen; Byakuran wouldn't take any chances.

Thus the fancy cars and clothes and safety precautions, all of the Vongola Guardians armed to the teeth despite the agreement that there would only be two people fighting today; it wasn't like the Gesso would do any less.

In his own car, Tsuna held a hand over the breast pocket of his suit, over his heart, murmuring a soft prayer for Hibari, because dear sweet Kyoko and Haru... Bless their women's intuition and their innocent souls because no one had the heart to tell them what was going and yet somehow, they knew enough to make Hibari an _omamori_, a protection charm.

It was just that Hibari never cared for such things. Asking him to carry one was the equivalent of asking to be bitten to death, really. So Tsuna carried it for him.

Dino slipped into the front seat just as Reborn dropped into the back, beside Tsuna. The blond was frowning, his lips drawn thin and white as he craned his neck backwards, looking pensively at the car that Hibari had disappeared into. He had wanted to sit with Hibari really, but Dino knew he would just disturb the younger man with his seemingly needless worrying.

Leaning back against the leather, Dino closed his eyes and heaved a deep sigh. He pulled a hand through his long hair, visibly frustrated.

"Dino," Reborn spoke, curt and sharp. "This isn't a battle for you to fret about. Not anymore."

Tsuna peered at Reborn wordlessly before leaning forward in his seat to place a gloved hand over Dino's shoulder. They had changed a lot in regards to _that_ timeline, finding Irie and thereby coming across Spanner, supporting the Giglionero Family and thus preventing the formation of the Black Spell. One of the most difficult things that _had_ to be done was confronting Verde to halt his research on the ring boxes, and the Vongola accomplished that - all of that - within the last ten years.

"It'll be all right, Dino-san. You know Hibari better than any of us."

"Oh, I'm not worried about that," Dino answered wryly, turning around and putting his hand on top of Tsuna's. He squeezed it gently, glad for his little brother's comfort. "I know that Kyouya would win. He would never allow himself anything less."

He hesitated for a moment before sighing, "It's just that... I worry about what comes _next_. Kyouya puts everything he has into everything he does, but then..." he chewed on his lip, leaving the rest of the sentence hanging in the air, unspoken.

But not unacknowledged.

Reborn crossed his arm, turning his head to stare out of the window, "I had Hibari's doctors go over to your manor yesterday, Dino. They _should_ be able to buy us some time. Enough for us to get the cure."

Tsuna nodded. "They should be able to administer it as soon as possible," if all went well, if Hibari was still alive after fighting all out with Byakuran, if Byakuran kept his word and _no one _decided to target the doctors instead. He shook his head, shoving those stray doubts down as he steadily continued, "If it's a delicate procedure."

"If we are able to find the cure in the first place," Reborn said grimly, his eyes narrowing. "Despite his words, I doubt that he would actually hand over the cure just like that."

Dino was silent for a moment, his hand slipping into the inner pocket of his jacket to touch the leather holster and the cool metal of the gun resting inside. "If he refuses..." he began slowly, then shrugged, half-nonchalant."Then we just have to force it out of him, haven't we?"

He never liked doing things 'the traditional mafia way', but he knew - he had been in this business long enough to know - that sometimes there wasn't any other way. And, honestly, he wasn't willing to risk Hibari's life over his own principles. Hibari would bite him to death for it.

He just... wanted Hibari to be alive enough to do that.

Tsuna eyed Dino's hand. Somehow, he didn't think his older brother was reaching in his coat pocket to touch a lucky charm. He was... more practical than that.

Leaning back against plush leather that should have been comfortable, Tsuna buckled up and tried to ignore the near-suffocating feeling that seemed to emanate from his gut. Over the years, he never stopped asking himself if there were better alternatives to the choices that they made; rather than sending his friends out on various missions where they had to fight, to hurt and to kill, how else could they all achieve what needed to be done for a _better future_? What were the consequences? And was it all worth it in the end?

He smiled wryly. _Silly Tsuna, _he could feel his tutor's eyes on him, and almost hear Reborn's voice even though he was just thinking to himself. _It's not the end just yet. _

***

The moment Hibari got into the car, after giving Kusakabe a curt nod of acknowledgment, he dropped himself backwards until he lay flat against the leather seats. He stretched himself out, sprawling until he had occupied the entire space inside. Crossing his ankles, he bent his knees to leave enough space for Yamamoto, since it seemed like the other man was going to sit in the back with him whether he liked it or not. Arms folding behind his head, Hibari closed his eyes.

It had been far too difficult for him to simply sleep, lately, so he would take any chance he had to simply rest. He had needed to be at his best - or what constituted as his best now - as much as he could be.

After all, he was going to bite that Byakuran to death.

If Yamamoto would just hurry up in the car that is, except he was standing there, staring for a moment, eyes widened slightly when Hibari stretched out. After a moment, Hibird flew in and settled on Hibari's head. Yamamoto laughed out loud at the sight, and got in, pulling the seatbelt on in place after closing the door.

Nonchalantly, Hibari stretched out his legs, dropping them on top of Yamamoto's thighs without a word.

That got him a few seconds of utter silence, and then another laugh, softer than the one before. "It's funny... Usually you rest your head on someone's lap, not your feet." Slowly, he lifted his hands from the belt buckle; he didn't seem to know where to put them next.

"I do whatever I want," Hibari said calmly, his eyes still closed. "Now shut up."

Yamamoto opened his mouth to reply, but then thought better of it. Instead, he held a hand out towards Hibird, curling a finger slightly, beckoning. The bird stared back at him for a few seconds, then hopped off Hibari's head and onto his finger. Steadily, he transferred the bird onto his shoulder.

Glancing up at the rearview mirror, Yamamoto nodded at Kusakabe. _Ready whenever you are_.

Kusakabe nodded, smoothing out his frown. He bit down hard on the piece of grass in his mouth, and then stepped on the accelerator.

***

As the cars rolled out, Gokudera leaned back in his seat, looked away from the window to sigh heavily to himself. Rather than risking a glance towards the rear-view mirror, towards his sister's face, he simply closed his eyes. He didn't know if he felt relieved or annoyed at the sight of that cheery baseball idiot, smiling like at a ball of yellow fluff on his shoulder like nothing was wrong.

And Yamamoto knew the stakes...

Lambo watched him, biting his lip and trying to not fidget. His self-control lasted for exactly five minutes before he started wringing his hands slightly, pressing the tips of his fingers together and then forcing them apart. He looked up.

"Hey, Gokudera..." he tried, sounding tentative.

"Yeah?" Gokudera opened his eyes after a moment, and turned his gaze upon the teenage hitman, already half-irritated by his timid tone. "What is it?"

Lambo tried not to cringe at that, instinctively leaning away from Gokudera towards the window. "Is..." he swallowed. "Is everything going to be okay?"

Gokudera looked away, thinking briefly about cigarettes, and then lung cancer. He licked his lips, sucking in a breath through his teeth, then let it out slowly. "Maybe. Maybe not." He didn't want to lie to the kid. "On the one hand, we have that bastard's word that he'll give us the cure to Hibari's illness if - _when_ Hibari defeats him. But I doubt he's going to hand it over nice and easy.

"On the other hand, even though we're heading to the Cavallone's Roman compound, it's still the Gesso family we're facing. We could still be walking into their trap. You remember ten years ago, in that other future?"

"A little... Not much of it." Lambo admitted, toying with a lock of his hair. He didn't like thinking of that; about how _useless _he was at that time when everyone was trying their best and trying save the Vongola, while he was just... sort of around.

He took a breath, lifting his eyes to give Gokudera a small, tentative smile. "But I've read the reports of what happened... and the profile Reborn made of him." At that, he winced slightly.

"Yeah, well... We _did_ weaken them, more than they'll ever know," Gokudera smirked back, and faintly, his eyes shining with pride. His voice was calm and dry as he continued, "If we could beat them then, we can beat them now; anything goes wrong today, and we'll _crush_ them!" He made a fist in the air for emphasis.

Lambo could only offer a small, but bright smile at that. His hands clenched into fists on his thigh, bunching the soft leather beneath his nails. They would win, he reminded himself. They were the _Vongola_ and _Lambo's famiglia_ and of course they would win.

Of course.

His smile widened, and he nodded. "Yeah."

***

When Ryohei held the door open for Chrome, she smiled, a pretty picture of peace and serenity as she always seemed to be, and he grinned back. Meanwhile, Kakimoto Chikusa had peered up at him from the driver's seat, utterly expressionless. Ryohei couldn't help but give him a thumbs up.

"Thanks for the ride, Kakimoto!"

_Bam_!

The door was definitely shut now.

Chrome didn't even wince at the loud slam, simply taking it all in her stride. She gave Chikusa a small, knowing smile and nodded. Mukuro-sama was safe, and with her - with _them_ - for now. She knew that the other two boys - men by now, but they would probably always be boys to her - worried very much about him often, especially after the little tidbit she told them about the future that was not theirs. So nowadays, she tried to give them as much reassurance as she could.

Chikusa nodded in response before turning back to the wheel, watching impassively as the other cars pulled out of the lot.

Turning back to Ryohei, Chrome's smile gentled even further. "Thank you, Sasagawa-san," she said, belatedly.

"Don't mention it," the Sun Guardian blithely replied. He glanced down as he buckled up, then quickly looked at her once more. "Oh! Hey, Mukuro's going be there again, right? What about the other guy... Joushima! He there already?"

Chrome nodded, "Mukuro-sama will be there." He didn't have much of a choice, to be honest, she thought wryly, leaning back against the cool leather seats with her eyes closed. Byakuran did call for all the Guardians to be there, and Mukuro... well, he was literally_ just_ beside Byakuran right now.

But it wasn't as if he would refuse to come anyway.

"Ken..." she continued, opening her eyes and sharing a tiny, secret smile with Chikusa in the rearview mirror."He might."

"Eh?" Ryohei blinked. He didn't know what to make of that sweet little smile of hers. Yamamoto's smiles used to be almost as unreadable. "... Heh," usually Chrome didn't give straight answers anyway. He shrugged. "Well, all right." It wasn't as if that Mukuro would betray Tsuna, he figured.

After all, pineapple-head was almost as obsessed with Tsuna as octopus-head.

Chrome turned her head to look at Ryohei for a long, silent moment before she spoke again. "Are you worried, Sasagawa-san?"

Ryohei grinned automatically, but his eyebrows creased together for a second before he relaxed his expression and shrugged. "For Hibari, yeah."

"I think everyone is," Chrome replied, almost placidly. Her hand slipped inside the pocket of her suit, feeling the cool metal of the small trident that was now her weapon. Her eyes lidded slightly as she stared out of the window. "I only hope that Byakuran-san would be reasonable."

"Yeah..." He thought back to the last time they all saw Byakuran. Come to think of it, Byakuran still seemed as cracked as they figured he'd be, but it was someone else who acted unexpectedly. "Actually I'm worried about Yamamoto... He's never been so extreme with his reactions before." Everyone reacted when Hibari fainted in front of them all, but even then...

Chrome nodded at that, a small, secretive smile curving her lips. "I'm sure he would be all right," she murmured quietly. "He's just worried about Hibari-san." Far, far more worried than the rest of them, because his attachment was simply so much stronger.

"Yeah, but like you said, we all are." Ryohei scratched his head. "What I don't get is how Yamamoto noticed something was wrong when the rest of us didn't. Besides Reborn that is."

Chrome laughed a little at that. She turned and gave Ryohei a small shrug, "I don't know either. But it's interesting to wonder, isn't it?"

***

The car slowed and came to a stop. Dino, arms crossed, opened his eyes and announced; "We're here."

He exchanged a short glance with Reborn, then Tsuna through the rearview mirror. His ex-tutor nodded, and they exited the car at the same time, leaning against it as they looked out towards the Cavallone base. The grounds were as well-kept as ever, lilies and tulips and petunias dotting the green lawns. A little further, a stone fountain cast rainbows in the air. And in the distance-

Spots of white, getting larger and larger. Reborn tipped his hat back a little, a breath escaping his lips.

"They're here."

Tsuna nodded, although his main concern had little to do with the approaching men... and Iris. Rather, from the corner of his vision, he spied Yamamoto alighting from Kusakabe's car.

For a moment, barely a second, it looked like Yamamoto was lifting a hand out towards Hibari. But the moment passed and his hand ended up against the car door, as though there was a need to nudge it open wider.

He could imagine the look that Hibari might have shot towards Yamamoto, but who could blame them? Tsuna's eyes refocused to the front to catch sight of Byakura's suit, Byakuran's hair, Byakuran's smile - white, white, bright as fresh fallen snow - and they were close enough now. He could see the white of his eyes even.

Faintly, Tsuna thought of snipers, variations on how to use his X Burner, and _why shouldn't I? Why_ shouldn't_ I?_

Byakuran smiled knowingly. Tsuna was a pacifist, wasn't he? Well known and loved and protected, the Vongola Tenth was a breath of fresh air amongst the mafia and also quite a diplomat, much like a foreign goodwill ambassador at times, but he was still part of the mafia; he still sent people out into battle, to 'talk business' with violence, to kill... Such an entertaining combination of bigotry.

Reborn watched Tsuna, and then Byakuran. He knew what Tsuna wanted to do, what he himself wanted to do, what _everyone _had thought of doing, at some point or another. But it wasn't a solution that would bring them Hibari's life, because Byakuran held the cure and all the cards in his hands, so they had to play his game.

Briefly, he wondered if Byakuran realized what a fool he was to have chosen Hibari to be his opponent. He smirked, barely visible, and turned his eyes to the second car.

Hibari's back was straight but not too much, his breathing tightly controlled to the point that anyone who didn't know him might have thought that it looked natural. His head spun a little, but he pushed the dizziness away, his eyes fixated on the pale hair of his adversary. So _this _was the man who did this to him. He fingered the tonfa hidden up his sleeve. Here was a chance for him to take his revenge, neatly gift-wrapped.

He wouldn't waste it.

The Rain Guardian closed the door behind the Cloud Guardian, and Byakuran thought the gesture was _sweet_: the way marshmallows melted against his tongue, irresistibly soft and uncomplicated.

He observed openly and briefly tried to memorize Yamamoto's face, but someone else was staring at him with a good, strong dose of killing intent. Byakuran's gaze slide to Hibari, who was so pale, so gaunt, and hollow-cheeked. The other guardians just seemed to pale in comparison.

Dark circles under the Cloud Guardian's eyes betrayed the fact that he had caught little sleep of late, but those eyes were nonetheless piercing, and whoever tailored his suit had to be a master; overall, he simply looked anorexic, rather than almost _dead_.

Come to think of it, it was truly a wonder that he was still alive. Byakuran was hard pressed to think of anyone who even came close to surviving for a month or two after being inflicted with Hibiscus. The point was to let its victims leave a beautiful corpse.

Byakuran sighed. Life would be very boring indeed if _everything_ went his way.

Mukuro heard the sigh, his eyes gliding over to watch Byakuran. His customary smile remained on his lips, but he was worried, in his own way. He had no doubt that Hibari would win, no matter how strong Byakuran was - after all, the circumstances where Hibari Kyouya had defeated him ten years ago were similar. He wasn't even walking around with broken bones this time... It was the cure - its location, to be exact - that preyed on his mind. That riddle...

His mismatched eyes caught Chrome's blue one, then Chikusa's, and his smile widened slightly, curving up into something almost like a smirk. He thought back on the other member of his little family, and lidded his eyes slightly to hide the smugness.

Ken would do just fine. He had the clue, the instructions. He would find the cure; after all, he was Mukuro's tenacious puppy. The only question was-

Would Hibari survive long enough for the cure to be brought here?

Hibari's dark eyes - sharp as knives despite the blurring of the world - met Byakuran's straight on. There was a blatant challenge in them. Though it was Byakuran who had set the rules of this game, this gamble, Hibari had never been one to take another's rules lying down.

He ignored everyone's eyes on him as he walked towards the place of their battle. He had been here too many times to not know the grounds like the back of his hand, and Hibari had never been a particularly patient man. Besides, delaying would not be to his advantage.

He knew that his time was running out.

But that didn't stop him from halting before Byakuran, danger woven in the curl of his fingers; in the narrowing of his eyelids; in every movement he made. His lips curved upwards, and it was a smirk, certainly not a smile.

"Byakuran of the Gesso," when Hibari spoke, his voice was louder and stronger than it had been in days - none of that weak, whispery version that the Vongola had been treated to. A twist of his hands and the tonfas came sliding out of his sleeves easily, but he didn't raise them, keeping them to his sides. It was a reminder to Byakuran that no matter how weakened he might seem, he was still Hibari Kyouya, still deadly, and should never be underestimated.

"Shall we begin."

Violet eyes widened in delight at the simple statement that was delivered with absolute conviction. "As soon as the gracious Cavallone Tenth leads us to our arena," Byakuran nodded, the look in his eyes soft as he admired the Cloud Guardian. When he turned his gaze upon said mafia boss however, the look became bland, his smile politely interested.

"If you would be so kind..." He half-turned, half-stepped aside for Dino, and looked down at Tsuna. "Hello again, Vongola Tenth," he chuckled. "Thank you for keeping your end of the bargain."

Tsuna stiffened. Behind him, the rest of the guardians were ready to mob Byakuran, and he knew it. But as he'd stressed, he didn't want an all out war. This fight was pointless enough, wasn't it? "As you will, I'm sure, Byakuran-san."

"Of course."

***

Dino's men had cleared the grounds entirely for the battle, Reborn noted, and smiled slightly at their efficiency. He watched as Hibari brushed past him, back straight and head held high. He doubted that anyone else would be able to tell that Hibari was as weak as he was, and that thought widened his smile.

He expected no less from the strongest Guardian.

Hibari stopped at one side of the circular arena, his hands clenching tighter around his tonfas to stop them from trembling. Watching through slitted eyes as Byakuran took his place at the other side, he let out a long, slow breath and shoved the pain he had been feeling out of his mind. It was not worth any attention, right now.

He lifted his eyes, and met Yamamoto's gaze.

It was warm; it was familiar - something intimate and annoying and too confusing to think about. And then came that soft, encouraging smile that Hibari never really needed.

Yamamoto just smiled. He kept his mouth shut because there were... quite a few things he wanted to tell Hibari, in case... Just in case, but he couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't be brushed aside, or irritate Hibari, or simply take the man's attention away from his fight.

A quick intake of breath. He nodded, as if to reassure...

But Hibari had never been the sort to need the reassurance. He returned Yamamoto's nod with a fierce look of his own before turning back to face Byakuran, his feet and body moving smoothly into his natural fighting stance. Tonfas held in front of him, Cloud ring on his finger, Hibari turned to look at Dino, his eyes demanding one thing and only one:

_Let's begin._

Byakuran grinned widely at the briefly stricken looks that crossed both Dino Cavallone and Yamamoto Takeshi's faces. Idly, he wondered just what was so attractive about the Vongola Cloud Guardian, aside from his renowned strength and beauty. Certainly not his personality. So serious... so boring.

He glanced to the side at his men, who now flanked Mukuro as if they were allies. Byakuran chuckled, and raised a hand to study his fingers, contemplating the Mare Sky ring for a moment in particular before a clear orange flame flickered to life.

"Fetch us the cure, won't you, Mukuro-kun?"

Mukuro's eyes darted to him for a moment- _Fetch us the cure_, when Mukuro himself didn't have it, and didn't even know where it was. But of course that didn't show on his face. He merely smiled at Byakuran, bright and false as always, and nodded.

"Of course." He left the arena, walking away. This might even be fortuitous, really... He could check on how Ken was doing, after all. His eyes slid to Hibari, standing tall and proud despite looking as if a wind could blow him away with ease.

He smiled.

Hibari barely took notice of Mukuro's exit, eyes focused on Byakuran and the burning orange flames. So that was the Mare ring of Sky... Hibari slanted his eyes over to Dino once more, and when the man nodded, he lowered his body. Cloud flames ignited immediately from his ring to spread over to his tonfas, brightly violet and fierce.

And he struck.

Byakuran sidestepped with a fluid turn towards the left, curling his right hand around the Mare ring's flame as it flared up and into the shape of a double-edged long sword. It burned beautifully like something out of fanciful and terrible fables; the silver blade seemed to bring light into the room, as if it'd been dark before, and the rain guard fanned out with soft flames into the shape of the Mare ring's wings.

It was this man, Tsuna reflected, this self-styled White Knight, was who shone like an angel and brought the mafia world to its knees _in another timeline_. And although that reality does not exist anymore, Byakuran still had the power, still held so many - like the Phantom Knight of the Giglionero family - in his thrall.

He wielded his weapon with effortless grace, and ghosted past Hibari, smiling. Letting the edge of his blade drag around the curve of one tonfa, he used the steel as a pivot point, to slice across Hibari's body.

Of course, it couldn't have been that easy.

Hibari wasn't one to be caught with such a simple move. He twisted his body away from the roaring Sky flames, jumping up and flying backwards away from them. He frowned - this was tiresome, because the sword had a longer reach than his tonfas, and the flames themselves lengthened the reach even further.

But Hibari wasn't one to be discouraged by such little things. The Cloud flames on his tonfas burned brighter, hotter, _fiercer_ as his resolve strengthened. To increase the flame of the ring was...

_To be pissed off._

And Hibari was certainly angry enough for his flames to flare outwards, fanning out until it almost entirely swallowed his form. All of a sudden, the place seemed to be like an inferno, heat from the Cloud flames spreading outwards and distorting the air. Hibari took a breath through his mouth and his feet left the ground as he practically flew towards his opponent with quick, light steps. His tonfas drew backwards, aiming for Byakuran's throat.

Byakuran parried, simply deflecting Hibari's blow. But he did not press his advantage. Instead, he jumped back out of range, grinning like a little boy on Christmas morning. He had the audacity to laugh, knowing that Hibari probably wanted to end this quickly, but this fight wasn't about to be a one man show. Byakuran wanted to play first, to see if Mukuro was right about Hibari's strength.

And Hibari knew it.

He knew that Byakuran was simply playing, simply _toying_ with him and that fact made him grit his teeth, tendons standing out. His knuckles were white against his tonfas, eyes narrowed as his Cloud flames burn even brighter as he moved into the next strike. He ducked downwards to the ground, sweeping a leg out to kick out Byakuran's legs from under him. His tonfas shot back up, aimed for Byakuran's pelvis and ribs, aiming to incapacitate.

He would show the man the mistake he made in underestimating him.

Violet eyes widened in surprise. But then, delightedly, Byakuran laughed. He had jumped when Hibari tried to trip him down, which left him vulnerable to being gutted when he landed - except, that was where the Mare ring came in. With its flame, he propelled himself higher up in the air, aiming to burn his opponent at the same time.

Hibari rolled out of the way immediately, hissing out his breath through his teeth when some of Byakuran's flames caught on his suit and skin. But he didn't spare a thought of that - pain was entirely inconsequential at this point - and leapt into the air to chase Byakuran. He dodged the fiery sword with a shift in his hips, gripping his tonfa tight as he tried to shove it into Byakuran's chest.

Byakuran held a hand out in Hibari's direction. A round shield of fire erupted from his palm, and as it took the brunt of the attack, ribbons of Sky flame burst out from the sides, to curl around, or rather, _wrap_ around the Cloud flames.

But Hibari was the Cloud; the one who could never be caught. And he was older now; wiser, even. With a single thought, he muted his Cloud flames, shutting them off and plunging back to the ground. He landed on the balls of his feet, knees bent and chest heaving for breath. Black was edging to the sides of his vision.

He was running out of time, and realizing it.

Looking up, he watched Byakuran still in the air with narrowed eyes. For a moment, he thought about those boxes that Tsuna had spoken about and he himself had seen, but it was only a fleeting thought before violet flames flared up around him, shooting him upwards into the air swiftly. He feinted to the left, as if he was going for Byakuran's heart, but spun mid-air, tonfas extended.

The blow connected.

Having misjudged Hibari's intention, Byakuran raised his shield to block the thrust to the heart, only to have fire and metal slammed against his gut. The strength of Hibari's hit pushed him a few meters back. He stopped short of introducing the back of his head to a wall however, with a cushion of soft flame.

"Oh! _My_, but that was a nice shot," he chuckled. Despite the pain, his eyes danced with amusement. "Mukuro-kun warned me that you hit hard."

Now he was just goading Hibari.

Byakuran reminded Hibari of all of Mukuro's unpleasant qualities. His fighting style, as well, was as distasteful - all fanciful moves and empty fire, dancing around the arena, never striking properly and only dodging. As if it was all only a _game_.

Even Yamamoto Takeshi knew when to quit playing and start fighting seriously.

It frustrated Hibari; he had no time to play such games, nor did he want to. He moved to attack again, lips drawn back into a snarl.

No doubt, he wanted to wipe that serene smile off of Byakuran's face, but every time he seemed to manage, that smile was back, as if it could grow frustratingly wider.

Byakuran moved more cautiously now. Nonetheless, he didn't seem to favour anything, or show that he felt the least bit of hurt. Instead, he seemed remarkably energetic. And chatty.

"What you have, Hibari-kun, I call Hibiscus," he offhandedly revealed as he backed away from another flurry of blows. "In flower language, it has two meanings..."

"I don't want to hear it," Hibari intoned flatly. He wasn't listening to Byakuran – he knew that the man was trying to distract him, and he wasn't as stupid or rash to fall for the bait. He had fought enough with Mukuro to be able to block out such incessant noise.

Despite Byakuran not showing it, Hibari could tell that he was slightly weakened. The blow that connected was a strong one - it might have even cracked a few ribs. He wasn't sure, but he catalogued the possible injury in his mind. Narrowing his eyes, he suddenly moved upwards, his tonfa striking out to use Byakuran's shield as pivot. He twisted in the air, shoulders steeling to strike at Byakuran's head and neck as he came back down.

He caught the flat of the flame sword instead, and again, it happened again: Hibari's Cloud flame diminished on contact with the Sky flame, which only grew larger and clearer. Byakuran swung his sword to flip Hibari over him in the air, and continued with barely a hitch in his voice.

"Hibiscus, firstly, means delicate beauty. Now, I heard that you were beautiful, but you never really looked all that delicate to me," he chuckled. "Until now."

Hibari didn't even bother to acknowledge those words, narrowing his eyes when he realized what Byakuran was doing with his Sky flames. His lips thinned into a line - it wouldn't be so easy to swallow his Cloud flames to nothing.

After all, this was his dying will.

Hibari's breath rattled slightly in his chest as he somersaulted in the air, trying to get close to Byakuran again. His flames burnt even brighter and hotter than before, violet nearly swallowing his figure as he pressed down against Byakuran's sword, directly challenging his Sky flames.

If it was a battle of wills, Hibari knew he wouldn't - _couldn't_ - lose.

From Byakuran's point of view, Hibari was playing right into his hands, practically throwing out all that Cloud energy without regard for what the Sky ring could do with it. He welcomed Hibari then, with seemingly open arms. Or rather, he stretched his arms out straight at his sides, sword and shield melting into formless fire in his palms.

Suddenly, Sky flames wrapped around them, both of them, morphing into a giant sphere of light. He heard screams down below, vaguely. But that was muted as the sphere closed.

"The second meaning is..." Byakuran chuckled, "... perhaps Rain-kun might have been a better candidate to _consume_ your fire."

Byakuran was insinuating _something_, but Hibari didn't know what and couldn't care less about it. The air was suddenly thicker around them, shaking in the air from the sheer heat. Hibari gritted his teeth, fighting not to gasp for air as his head suddenly spun, dizziness nearly making him loosen his grip on his weapons.

But he wasn't one who would be so easily beaten. He breathed through his nose, searching for oxygen even as flames licked at the edges of his clothes. Closing his eyes against the blinding heat and light, his Cloud flames grew even stronger, pushing back against Byakuran's orange Sky.

Byakuran took it all in, the flames of Hibari's dying will, and channelled it through his own body, twisting the violet fire until it became his. As a result, the sphere grew larger, and the air around them, thinner.

Hibari simply gritted his teeth in response, his breath hitching and head spinning at the sudden decrease of air. When he could use boxes, he could do this: something like his _Needle Sphere Form, Reversed_. But his flames didn't back down - far from it. His muscles tensed, lips drawing back until they were white and his breathing stopped entirely for a moment.

Around him, violet fire burst outwards, trying to overcome the sphere of Byakuran's fire.

_This is my dying will, _he thought, and pushed back the black and the pain that wanted so badly to overwhelm him.

_TBC_


	14. Chapter 14

**Windshear   
**

Part 14/?

**Authors:** Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
Characters/Pairings:** All the Vongola ring bearers, Reborn, Dino and co, Byakuran and co, Mukuro's Ken. Byakuran/Mukuro, eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.**  
Rating: **PG-13**  
Words: **5521**  
Summary:** The fight ends, and the cure...

As he slipped away from the battle arena, Yamamoto bit hard upon his lower lip and clenched his fists tight. _Hibari will win_, he told himself as he silently followed Mukuro down the hall. All the while, Mukuro had been by Byakuran's side, he thought, practically at that man's lap...

_Who's side is he on?_

When Mukuro started humming a cheerful little tune, looking for all intent and purpose like he was _happy_, Yamamoto's eyes narrowed, sharp as knives. _Hibari's dying._ He nearly hissed out a breath, but Byakuran's mocking words came back to him so clearly.

_Fetch us the cure, won't you, Mukuro-kun?_

Yamamoto saw red.

Striding forward in quick, harsh steps, he grabbed Mukuro by the collar, stopping the man in his tracks, and shoved him against the wall, abruptly cutting off the lullaby.

"Why?" he growled, agitated. "If you knew, _why_?"

Mukuro nearly bit down on his tongue when he was slammed against the wall. His hands came up immediately to wrap around Yamamoto's wrists, tugging those larger hands away so that he could breathe.

"Now, now, calm down, Takeshi-kun," he gritted out through his teeth. He took a quick breath as he continued, "I don't know where the cure is, but I'm trying to find out."

"You were _humming_," came the flat response. Yamamoto barely resisted tightening his chokehold; he just managed not to. "You were humming a _lullaby_."

If Byakuran told Mukuro to 'fetch' the cure, Yamamoto was all for it, honestly, but unless the Mist guardian could explain why he sounded so care-free about the whole thing - oh yes, come to think of it, Mukuro had laughed out loud too when Hibari first woke from coma - Yamamoto's self-restraint was on a countdown.

"It's a clue," Mukuro told him quietly, still calm because he had gone through - could recall - enough deaths not to be afraid of them anymore. They still hurt like hell, but keeping calm in the face of killing intent was a hard-earned and ingrained survival skill. Mukuro didn't struggle, and simply gave Yamamoto a characteristic smile. "It's not_ just _a lullaby, Takeshi-kun."

He took another breath, "Now, would you mind letting me go so that I can tell you about it?"

The Rain guardian complied about a few seconds later, when the tempest of emotions in his eyes settled into anxiousness and confusion. "It's a clue," Yamamoto slowly repeated. He stepped back from Mukuro and seemed at a loss for where to place his hands, so they hung limply at his sides, fingers still half curled, not quite relaxed. "It's not just a lullaby..." What he wouldn't give to wrap his fingers around Byakuran's neck though.

Mukuro cleared his throat, rubbing his neck mock-casually. He fussed with his cuffs for a moment, watching Yamamoto out of the corner of his eyes. He wasn't going to let that _boy_ do that again, he thought to himself. He'd simply been... distracted.

Sighing and sounding exasperated, Mukuro started to walk again. "It's a gamble... a game that Byakuran is playing with me." His smile was wide, but grim. "I know that the cure is in the Gesso base here, but..."

"But..." Yamamoto managed to fill in the blanks as he caught up with the other man, "you don't know where it is." That statement bore none of the accusation from at the start of their exchange, but he was nonetheless agitated. "And you have a clue..." He peered at Mukuro anxiously. "He gave you a clue - in the form of a lullaby?"

The idea of Byakuran serenading Mukuro came up surreal, and yet so very vivid.

Mukuro hooded his eyes, looking straight in front of him. He started singing under his breath, low and nearly inaudible.

"Hush-a-bye baby, on the treetop,

When you climb up, in its house you'll stop.

There is a power I seek and keep,

That'll quiet poor babies when they must weep.

"When baby's drowsing, cosy and fair,

Reach round its neck, it won't need for air..."

His eyes slid shut, and he shook his head, smiling a little secret smile to himself. "No, I don't know where the cure is yet, but I have an idea." He tilted his head back, looking up to Yamamoto, and his smile widened with the smallest hint of pride. "I've sent Ken."

Before Yamamoto had a chance to ask more about Mukuro's idea however, a gruff voice came from behind.

"Ruin a fucking _nursery rhyme,_ why don't you?" As they turned around, Gokudera dropped out of stealth-mode and simply jogged over. "What are those horrible lyrics on about?"

"My, my, even _Hayato-kun_ has decided to join us," Mukuro cocked his head to the side, all false curiosity and wide smiles. By all rights, he should have expected this - Rain and Storm tended to stick together - and he'd possessed their bodies before – Gokudera during his little jaunt at Kokuyo, and Yamamoto during one of their missions after he had been freed from the Vendicare. He would have sensed them coming if he hadn't been thinking so deeply about those morbid lyrics.

Mukuro tapped his hand against his thigh, faintly annoyed and just a little impatient; it was enough to have one tag-along for this, but _two_? Ah well, he would just have them do his dirty work, wouldn't he? He ducked his head, sliding his thumbs into the pockets of his pants as he started walking again.

"It's a clue, Hayato-kun. Straight from the horse's mouth."

"Che, should have known," Gokudera sneered. While he was more than a little rusty on the piano nowadays, what would that horse - _flower_ know about good music? "So Byakuran's gambling Hibari's life on a song, you sent beast boy to look into it for you, and there's more to the thing, isn't there?"

At Mukuro's happy little nod and hum, Gokudera just sighed, and looked towards Yamamoto.

_You snuck off, stupid. What were you thinking, walking away from Hibari like that, worrying me- worrying the Tenth like that? Could have said something- such an idiot. Don't do that again!_

Yamamoto blinked at the silent glare. Gokudera sighed again. "I excused us from the Tenth. It's enough that everyone else is watching Hibari's fight, really. Now, are we going, or what?"

"Of course we are," Mukuro interjected smoothly. With a wide smile, he turned around with a theatrical sweep of his arms and said to them, "Now, follow me." Without waiting for a reply, he turned his back on them once more and strode off towards the front gates.

Gokudera rolled his eyes, but they soon fell in formation with the ease of familiarity.

***

They had to sneak into the Gesso's headquarters in Rome. Mukuro knew better than to suggest that he'd go in first, and then open the back door for them. Gokudera had never trusted him _that much_, especially since his acting with Byakuran was ever so convincing, and - with Hibari's life on the line - Yamamoto had proven that he wasn't going to be his easy-going, happy-go-lucky self.

But when Mukuro started running, they knew something was up. Yamamoto just caught him by the wrist before he disappeared around one of the corners of the many white, uniform-looking corridors.

"What's going on, Mukuro?"

The Mist guardian stopped in his tracks, turning his head to look at Yamamoto. His eyes were serious and narrowed, lips pursed and pale. He tugged his wrist out of Yamamoto's grip smoothly. "We have some trouble." Usually he would tease and withhold the information, but _this simply isn't the time._ "Hurry up."

They had no choice, really, except to follow Mukuro and hope for the best, but when they stepped out of the lift and onto the rooftop garden, they saw Joushima Ken and understood.

Beside a man-made river, the young man was hunched up against the trunk of a large tree, drenched with water and blood, and looking delirious. He cracked an eye open when he heard them run over.

"M... Mukuro... -san," Ken tried to grin, to laugh. "I... beat that bastard good..." He nodded off to the side.

...Where Gloxinia lay, face down in the river, uniform ripped to shreds. It didn't look like he was going to get up soon.

Mukuro strode over to Ken immediately, hands running up and down his body and checking his injuries. Pressing two fingers below Ken's chin, he tilted his head up and looked into his eyes. His lips thinned further at what he saw - in the absence of boxes, Gloxinia still had access to his beloved drugs, especially since the Gesso grew their own.

"Ken," Mukuro said, crisp and firm. "Look at me."

When Ken's eyes had focused a little more, Mukuro leapt into the other man's mind. There was little to no resistance. The information he needed was retrieved quickly, and he backed out into his own. He sighed - well, at least Ken had done what he was there for.

"Hayato-kun," when he spoke again, his tone was serious. But it still had the note of amused teasing in it, as if it was second nature for him to speak like this. "Take Ken back down to the car with Chikusa. Takeshi-kun and I will get the cure." A pause, and then he sighed, knowing that Gokudera would protest even before the other man spoke.

"Please."

"Wha-" Gokudera froze in mid-protest. He looked from Mukuro to Ken and Yamamoto before shutting his mouth and turning towards the Mist guardian once more, scowling. Plainly, the look in his eyes said that he did not want to leave, that it was a personal_ trial_ to place trust in Mukuro, and _if you let anything like _this_ happen to that baseball idiot, I'll..._

Suddenly, Yamamoto was in front of him. "Here," he said, as he carefully transferred the blonde-haired man into Gokudera's arms. "We'll get the cure," Yamamoto promised with a nod and a tight smile.

_Trust me._

Mukuro chuckled lightly at that. "What a touching display of the bonds of friendship," he commented idly, smiling as he leaned against the tree. "But unfortunately, we don't really have much time for that."

"Well, then get on with it," Gokudera shot back. He glowered at them both before sparing a quick glance at the man now bleeding in his arms. _Ugh_. He shoved the worry far from the forefront of his mind, and grit his teeth and started turning around. "Damnit, blondie, stay awake!"

_Does it occur to anyone_, Gokudera grumpily thought as he walked away, _that_ I'm_ the shortest one here?_

"Kufufufu," Mukuro laughed to himself as he watched Gokudera struggle with Ken into the lift, cursing and swearing under his breath all the way. It wasn't that he didn't think Yamamoto could do the job - they were both reliable - but Gokudera was difficult to work with... and more fun to annoy.

His eyes narrowed for a moment before his usual smile took over his face again. "Now, Takeshi-kun," Mukuro turned, "would you climb up this tree for me?"

"Huh?" Yamamoto blink at the strange statement. But rather than giving Mukuro a look of dumb, wide-eyed confusion, he tore his eyes from Gokudera's retreating form to look up at said tree, noting that... there was something... a tree house?

_When you climb up, in its house you'll..._

There was a soft whoosh as Yamamoto's feet kicked off the ground, and he flew upwards into the tree, a flash of blue flame at his heels.

Mukuro eyed the ground rather critically, noting the bloodstains and the scuffed grass. He turned his eyes towards the unconscious Gloxinia for a moment and smirked. He poked him with his trident. _Hm... alive, but out cold._ Mukuro sighed rather dramatically before plopping down to sit at a clean spot on the grass.

Tilting his head up, he leaned back on his hands. "What do you see up there, Takeshi-kun~?"

Yamamoto ducked between a few branches as he hovered around the wooden construct, mindful to keep the fire of his dying will under control. Something told him that it wouldn't do to accidentally burn the whole thing to the ground.

"I think I'm seeing that tree house you sang about," he replied. He broke off a thinner branch and waved it through the door-less entrance, sweeping the top, sides, and the floor for traps. He found none.

"Looks clean," he said, referring to the fact that the branch didn't set anything off. "I'm supposed to find something inside, right?"

Mukuro nodded, and then frowned to himself. Now, calling at each other like this was troublesome... His lips curved into an insincere smile before he called upwards, "Let me inside you, Takeshi-kun." It was not a request, merely a courtesy.

He found the thin thread that represented the possession contract between him and Yamamoto, and followed it, shifting slightly when he found himself in Yamamoto's mind, looking through his eyes. "_Oh~_? What _do _we have here?"

Yamamoto stumbled through the entrance as his world tilted and his vision went out of focus. When he could see again, he was greeted by the sight of... the Arcobaleno in their infant forms. Which was impossible; Tsuna had helped them break their curse some time back.

"Those... dolls... look really realistic," he noted, half-distracted by the odd feeling of another's presence inside of his head, and half-confused as to why he could still control his own body, as opposed to the last time Mukuro took possession of it.

Mukuro made a small humming sound inside Yamamoto's mind. "The Arcobalenos... it's been some time since I've seen them in this form." In his own physical form, Mukuro tapped his lip.

He started to sing the lullaby under his breath again, running through the words. He clicked his tongue lightly before speaking again.

"Shall we start off with the Sun?"

Yamamoto's eyes went to the doll with the yellow pacifier; _Reborn_. He reached round its neck and gasped at the feel of the silicone flesh.

"So, I 'pluck out the bullet' that's..." He trailed off, and hesitantly, slid his hands under the doll's armpits. The weight of it shocking him. Iteven _felt_ like he was lifting a real infant,and he faintly recalled doing so, quite often, with Reborn.

Mukuro tsked quietly, shaking his head as the sensations travelled to him. Hissing a little at the feel, he said, "Don't be squeamish now, Takeshi-kun." There was a smile in his voice when he next spoke, a certain sort of dark humour.

"Take it apart."

Technically, Yamamoto knew what he had to do at that point: he was supposed to find some 'bullet' or whatever it was lodged in the baby doll's 'heart'. But he didn't really know what he was looking for, so using his ring or his sword was out of the question.

With a hollow laugh, he squeezed the doll experimentally, and thought that perhaps there was something like a rib cage inside. But that couldn't be right. He managed to convince himself that it was probably like a Mosca robot at best, only with a very convincingly _human_ outer skin.

As he pulled the pacifier and the doll's garments out of the way, Yamamoto began to detach himself. Idly, he wondered what the doll was made off, and what Reborn would think of this as he dug his fingers into the bared torso with such force that it started to tear.

There was no blood. There were no muscles. Thankfully. But he stared at the thing in morbid dread when silicone slowly gave way to bone - Yamamoto gave a silent gasp- or rather, not bone, some sort of PVC skeleton that was stark white. There were shiny steel joints. If he applied enough pressure upon them, he imagined, they might-

_C-C-CRACK._

Mukuro could easily feel Yamamoto's discomfort at the situation, but he didn't say a word about it. He had never been the comforting sort; it just bored him. But...

"Well, at least it doesn't look like Hibari."

He gave a fake cough before looking through the Rain Guardian's eyes again, scrutinizing the doll. Mentally humming quietly to himself, he said, "Try the legs."

Yamamoto swallowed thickly, his mental landscape a whirlwind of stray thoughts and emotions. He was glad that the doll did not resemble Hibari, resentful that it tainted some of his earliest, fond memories of Reborn, and Mukuro's words were meant to keep him on track, weren't they?

"Right." Odd that the word sounded so calm.

Methodically, he pried the doll apart, working from the gaping hole in its chest and ripping its skeleton out - section by section - wishing that it was just cotton stuffing, and yarn and if the stiffer form was really at all necessary, a cork centre inside... like there would be if he had opened up a baseball.

He took a deep breath, and started checking inside the PVC tubes as well, in case they weren't _all_ hollow.

Meanwhile, Mukuro's frown deepened further; Yamamoto's search yielded no results. _Reach round its neck, it won't need for air..._ yet Byakuran had also said _the bullet lodged in its heart_... There's obviously nothing in the chest of the doll - Yamamoto had dismantled it enough. _Maybe in the doll with the purple pacifier?_

This was wasting time.

"Takeshi-kun," Mukuro murmured quietly. "I don't think you're searching in the right place."

_Reach round its neck_... "The pacifier?" His eyes snapped open.

Yamamoto's eyes were on the pacifier when Mukuro spoke in his head. It took a moment for the meaning to sink in however, and then he reached out and snatched it off the floorboards, holding it up to the sunlight that peeked in through the thick canopy of leaves outside.

"There's something- There's something inside, Mukuro!"

And Mukuro had to laugh at the raw excitement in his voice. It wasn't the appropriate moment for laughter, but when had he ever cared about that anyway?

"Then what are you waiting for, Takeshi-kun? Bring it down here then."

Yamamoto stood up quickly, nearly banging his head against the low ceiling of the construct, but because he had been subconsciously keeping his eyes off of the floor as he backed out he managed to avoid the headache. The tiny yellow pacifier felt cool in his fist, and rattled a bit as he manoeuvred past branches and foliage, then lowered himself to the ground.

"Mukuro!" He knelt beside him. "Here!"

Taking the pacifier from his hand, Mukuro chuckled again to himself. He closed his eyes for a moment, slipping out of Yamamoto's mind to settle back in properly into his own body before tossing the pacifier in his hand.

Something was in there, definitely.

There was a thoughtful look in his face as he looked at it for another moment more. Then, he gripped it strongly and smashed the pacifier against the tree behind him.

Yamamoto's heart skipped a beat or two as the yellow shell of the pacifier cracked open like an egg, and a single silver _bullet_ fell onto the grass.

***

That giant, unnatural ball of fire was no longer in the sky.

The ground was charred black in several spots. A little away from the arena, several walls of the main building had collapsed, burnt as well, parts of it threatening to cave into itself further. The smell of smoke and carbon was thick in the air, nearly enough to choke. A few pieces of ash and soot floated down, and landed on white hair.

Byakuran laid on his elbows, eyes squeezed shut and panting. His shoulder had been dislocated. His fingers were curled inwards, practically clawing at the ground while he couldn't seem to feel anything past his upper arm. And his clothes were charred too; burns, red and raw and angry, dressed him from head to toe.

At the back of his mind he swore he could almost hear his Mukuro-kun's laughter, dark and sweet like that time when Hibari had just woken up from his coma. Of course it was his imagination - a memory - because Mukuro never managed to form a psychic link with him, and he'd much rather think about that than focus solely on how much he was hurting.

As he tried to push himself off the ground, he found that he couldn't quite control his own muscles right. He was shaking.

Who would have thought that the _dying _will of the Vongola Cloud guardian could be so... so much?

Said Cloud Guardian was a distance away, fighting to keep his eyes open and fixed upon Byakuran. Hibari was on his knees, leaning his weight on one hand so as to not kiss the floor, the other hand clawing at his throat. His breaths came in sharp, harsh pants and desperate gasps as he tried to make his lungs work for him again. Byakuran was only a singular white-and-red spot in the distance, surrounded by black but Hibari refused to let his eyes close.

He refused to give in. Not to his own body, not when he had just won.

Trying to speak was a futile effort - he couldn't even_ think _of the words to say, much less try to force his vocal chords to say them. He breathed out shakily, dropping down to an elbow. The roaring in his ears was starting to get louder and louder.

"Dino," Reborn's voice broke through the deathly silence that had befallen them all when both fighters fell from the sky. Seemingly out of the blue, he enunciated, "We need a derringer," and looked at Hibari once more. He noted clinically the blueness of those lips, the blood that speckled practically everything around him, and the heavy, desperate gasps. Closing his eyes, he snapped his cellphone shut and slipped it into his pocket, turning to the Cavalone don. "_Soon_."

Dino forcibly tore his gaze away from Hibari's figure. His hands twitched, legs unconsciously moving into position to run forward. He restrained himself - he knew that Hibari wouldn't want to be acknowledged to be weakened. Besides...

What would he be able to do anyway?

Lips pressed tight together, Dino gave a short nod to Reborn before turning to one of his men standing at the very edges of his vision. "Get one from the weapon store. Hurry." The black suited Mafioso turned and ran towards the mansion. Dino turned back to Reborn.

"They've got the cure?"

"Yes," Reborn looked away, back towards Byakuran, who barely managed to move from the spot where he had fallen. But it was a fact that he was still alive, though badly injured. Reborn didn't have to glance at Tsuna to guess what his silly student would do about that: offer the bastard medical attention, and make Byakuran admit defeat, so that the Gesso wouldn't try to start something here and now.

Tsuna's steps were slow and steady as he walked towards Byakuran. He spared a glance towards where Hibari was, but he clamped down tightly on the urge to run over to his Guardian - there was something more important he had to do, something _greater _he had to protect.

His_ famiglia_.

Stopping right in front of Byakuran, he raised his gloved hands in front of him as a sign of peace to the Gesso members who had ran forward to their leader. He didn't kneel, merely tipping his head down so he could meet the Gesso leader's eyes.

"Byakuran-san," his voice was soft but firm. "You lost."

There was a long stretch of silence before Byakuran managed to lift his head slightly, and raise his eyes to the Vongola Tenth. "... Have I?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, "Ah..." He tried to laugh, but ended up wincing instead. "So I have," he sighed out softly, half in awe. He eyed his own guardians briefly, and then chuckled despite the pain. "Mukuro-kun isn't back yet..."

_This man... has probably never lost before_, Tsuna thought, a small, mirthless smile curving up his lips. Almost involuntarily, he glanced over to Hibari, who had managed to rise back up to his hands and knees. He tore his eyes away and refocused back on Byakuran, silent determination steeling his gaze. There was a moment when he gave Byakuran's guardians a _look_ before he dropped down into a squat in from of their leader.

"Where is the cure, Byakuran-san?"

"Mukuro-kun..." Momentarily, Byakuran gasped and violet eyes went unfocused. He tried to flex his fingers and made a tiny mewl at the back of his throat when he discovered that he couldn't. Why couldn't he feel anything there, when the rest of his arm, and his body felt like he was still crashing through cement and on fire?

The cure was with Mukuro - that was what Tsuna could tell from those slurred words. He pressed his lips flat together when Byakuran's body suddenly went limp, eye - that briefly widened in confusion - sliding shut. Standing back up, he brushed his hands against his dress pants before turning back to Byakuran's people.

"He needs medical assistance. Will you let us provide it?"

It was Iris, who responded - cruel, terrible Iris, Tsuna recalled, with the Mare Cloud ring on her finger, and the Death Stalk unit at her back - another reality that they had not prevented.

"So the Vongola Tenth really is as merciful as they say," she murmured, crossing her hands beneath her ample bosom. "Go ahead then," she shrugged. "_You're_ the boss here.

"It's' not as though he thought he'd need to bring his own doctors," she sniffed, and then turned her nose disdainfully. "I knew that Rokudo Mukuro was a bad influence."

"Is it such a bad thing?" Tsuna countered almost mildly, smiling at her. He nodded at those words, turning around to call to Dino. "Sorry, but I need to use your medical wing for a while." It was not a request; more of an order really, because this was an emergency and he had no time for unnecessary niceties.

In the mafia, even mercy had to be enacted through force.

"Please get us a stretcher," Dino's men were looking at each other, but Tsuna's clenched fists - still covered by his X-gloves - and Dino's own short nod convinced them. They brought the stretcher quickly, and Bruno came with them, running over to Dino.

The derringer flashed in the sunlight as Dino handed it over to Reborn.

***

Yamamoto paused in the shadow of the wrought iron archway, the bullet warm in his clenched fist.

"Come on, idiot." Gokudera shoved at him. "Let's get this over with." He didn't like the idea of what they needed to do in order to cure Hibari either, but letting him just die seemed to be the only other choice.

Reborn looked over to them as his hand closed over the derringer. He turned his eyes over the Hibari, who was now reduced to wheezing on the ground, saved from being sprawled on his stomach by a weakening elbow. Then, it shifted over Lambo, Ryohei and Chrome, who looked as if they wanted to run over to him right now and were barely restraining themselves.

"Yamamoto," he intoned, not taking his eyes away from those three. He tossed the derringer in the direction of the Rain Guardian.

"You know what to do."

The natural born hitman caught the gun easily, but it wasn't easy at all, what he had to do.

He took in a quick, short, shuttered breath and closed his eyes for a second from the derringer that felt so heavy in his hand.

"I know, kiddo."

Tsuna's eyes widened as the pieces fell into place. Gokudera looked away in respectful silence. If the others still had any doubts or confusion in their minds, it was wiped clean as Yamamoto took one step and then another towards the Vongola Cloud guardian, loading the derringer as he did so.

_Click._

Hibari looked up at the sound, cracking his eyes open just enough to see Yamamoto's silhouette standing over him. Sweat is making his hair stick onto his face, and a breeze makes his already erratic breathing shudder from the cold.

He was so_ exhausted_.

But he managed to turn himself around enough to meet Yamamoto's gaze, his own dazed and unfocused. Hibari rasped out a breath, falling onto his back and coughing weakly. There's the smallest of smirks on his face.

_Are you going to put me out_, he wanted to ask, but he had no more air left in him.

"Reborn," Dino exclaimed, "What- what's is this?" Despite the fact that he actually knew by now, he couldn't help but feel like he had just handed them the weapon of Hibari's _murder._

But Yamamoto wasn't listening anymore. He was looking at Hibari's tired, tortured face, thinking that it was _wrong_. It was Hibari Kyouya, the strongest man he ever met, lying on the ground - flat on his back!

"I have to shoot you..." He swallowed and tried to make his mouth work again. "I have to shoot the cure into you."

"The cure is a bullet," Reborn stated tonelessly, his eyes fixated on Yamamoto and Hibari, a distance away. "The final act of Byakuran's little tragedy." His hands twitched, itching to curl around a gun to _shoot _at the man who had caused all of this, and no doubt had more in store for them. It had seemed too simple - no, the fight wasn't simple, and the defeat was real, but this couldn't be the end of it, Reborn thought. He had watched Byakuran being taken away without a word, for Tsuna's sake... but what more could that man have planned?

Beside him, Tsuna brushed a hand against his shoulder. "I'm not going to let Byakuran-san die, Reborn," his voice was low but steady. "When we got back from that future, I swore to myself that I won't let _anyone_ else die if I could help it." His gaze shifted to Yamamoto, whose arm was obviously shaking, hands clenched too tight around the tiny derringer.

"Hibari-san will live," and his words resounded throughout the arena, clear as a bell and a proclamation.

Hibari, for his part, listened to all of this only partially, the voices floating in and out of his consciousness. He looked up to Yamamoto, and the small smirk widen just so slightly. Shaking his head a little, he motioned for Yamamoto to just get a move on already.

But Yamamoto knelt down beside him instead, and slid a hand under Hibari's neck, lifting him off the ground partially and then adjusting his grip so that he had an arm supporting both Hibari's head and shoulders. A part of him thought that the ground must be hard, and too cold - or warm - or _something_ for Hibari.

"I'm sorry," he whispered softly against the shell of his ear.

Immediately, Hibari's hand reached up and clench around the front of Yamamoto's shirt. He pulled himself up slightly, until he wasn't entirely dependent on Yamamoto's arm around him to keep him off the floor. A breath out, an explosive exhale that could almost be taken to be a laugh.

"Do it," he mouthed, and closed his eyes.

Even if this wasn't the cure... he had nothing to lose.

Yamamoto drew a shuttered breath in through his teeth, and looked down at the small, single-shot derringer in his hand. It wasn't so bad, he tried to tell himself. The bullet wasn't as big as those dying will bullets that Reborn used to shoot Tsuna up with, and he'd once seen a bullet_ bounce_ off a tree because it'd been fired from too far away - and Reborn explained that it had very low ballistics. _This_ bullet... It was... tiny.

How much of a cure could it hold?

What if Hibari died of _blood loss_ before he could even be cured?

Yamamoto shook his head, and promised, "You'll live." _No matter what_. Yamamoto couldn't allow himself to say 'don't die' again, as if it would just draw Hibari closer to death.

"I haven't told you something...," his voice wavered and nearly broke as he paused to swallow, "you really need to hear." _Please live so you can hear it._

Hibari, slumped against his chest and arm, could only smirk in response. He closed his eyes.

_Of course._

After all, he wouldn't ever let himself die. Not like that. Not to something as trivial as a disease. Even if Yamamoto hadn't said anything, he would still live.

Slowly, his hand started to loosen around Yamamoto's front.

There was the touch of the barrel against his chest, point blank range, over his old wound. When Yamamoto lay him down again, Hibari's brow creased at an odd, soft sensation that ghosted over his forehead. He didn't have the energy to look, but he could feel Yamamoto moving back, drawing the derringer away.

Then, he heard the click of the safety catch. The shot rang out, and he jerked like a rag doll on impact.

_TBC  
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Sorry for the late update! I've been really busy and forgetful recently, aaaah! I'm seriously very sorry about it._  
_


	15. Chapter 15

**Windshear   
**

Part 15/?

**Authors:** Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
Characters/Pairings:** Byakuran, Mukuro, Yamamoto, Hibari, Tsuna, and Gokudera. Byakuran/Mukuro, eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.**  
Rating: **PG-13**  
Words: **6234  
**Summary:** In the aftermath of the fight, everyone waits for the survivors to wake up, but the world keeps turning. Tsuna has a talk with Gokudera. Reborn has a talk with Yamamaoto. But what about Hibari?

Fingers linked on his lap and leaning back against the wall, Mukuro gazed through half-lidded eyes at the immobile, entirely white figure on the bed. Byakuran looked washed out like this, nearly blending in with the sheets that surrounded him. Mukuro pressed his lips together, and then gave a small, theatrical sigh.

Truth be told, he was getting a little worried about his 'playmate'. Byakuran had been asleep for nearing three weeks now, and he still showed no signs of waking up. His _famiglia_ didn't seem to be too concerned about him as well – they had never been there the admittedly few times Mukuro visited.

His lips split open into a huge yawn as he sank down even further in his chair, waiting for the end of his shift to come.

And he probably would have fallen asleep himself if the electrocardiograph by the bed hadn't suddenly beeped.

Mukuro blinked and straightened slightly, glancing briefly towards the heart monitor screen before his eyes went right back to the white-haired man. After a moment of listening to those beeps climb and fall into a steady pattern once more, he smiled to himself and padded over to the side of the bed.

Byakuran's ring finger twitched.

"Kufufufu..." Would Byakuran notice, he wondered, that the Mare Sky ring was missing?

Mukuro yawned again, plopping down to sit on the metal chair beside the bed, keeping a closer eye on Byakuran. The machines were starting to beep sharper, more frequently, and Mukuro turned his head to look at them, seemingly bored.

He rubbed the tip of his trident against his fingers, and then collapsed it to keep it out of the way. It would be fun, he thought, when Byakuran woke up and discovered his new little wound. Quite unfortunate, really, that the man had left himself so open and vulnerable to Mukuro, lying on the hospital bed like that. Their little games wouldn't be on such equal grounds then before.

A sudden shift in breathing made his head jerk back to the bed. He narrowed his eyes.

"...Ah," Byakuran's voice was raspy and low from disuse. "That's horrible, Mukuro-kun, to take my ring like that." A short cough; perhaps it was meant to be a laugh. "You need to wait until I propose."

Mukuro shook his head, smiling back. "If it was up to you, Byakuran-san, it'd take forever. You wouldn't think of making it official, not until you've reached all your _career_ aspirations."

And until then, Mukuro more or less knew that he himself was probably expendable in the other man's eyes.

Byakuran's lips drew into a pout immediately. "...Doesn't mean that you have to take my ring, Mukuro-kun," he complained hoarsely. Pressing an elbow into the mattress, he tried to sit up.

"_Careful_, Byakuran-san," Mukuro raised a hand initially, as if to help. Then, he touched two fingers to his lips instead, "You may not feel anything at the moment, but that's because the Vongola's doctors have you on anaesthetics... You've been badly burnt."

For the briefest of moments, Byakuran's eyes widened in shock at Mukuro's movement. Then, he seemed to recover himself and was smiling again, sliding gently back down to lie on his back. He laughed a little.

"Now that's rare, Mukuro-kun showing such concern..." and his smile widened a little more.

"You _are_ the one who will propose to me," Mukuro impishly replied, then quietly added, "and the one who will destroy the mafia world as we all know it?"

Internally, he alerted Chrome, knowing that she would inform the doctors.

Byakuran's eyes snapped open at the latter part of the statement, but then he relaxed back into his bed again, seemingly casual. "Does Mukuro-kun not like the idea of that?" He cocked his head to the side, like an inquisitive bird.

"You hate the mafia, don't you?"

"Hm?" Mukuro mirrored his movement with a slight tilt of his head. "Hate... is such a _weak_ word to describe how much I despise it." His smile grew then, but did not reach his eyes. Rather, his expression was mockingly serene as he continued, "I _loathe_ the mafia."

At the most honest words he'd ever heard from Mukuro, Byakuran simply threw his head back and laughed, truly joyous at the sheer anger and hatred he could see in Mukuro's eyes. _Ah, Mukuro-kun, you would never change, would you?_

He coughed harshly, turning to his side and wincing as the movement nearly tugged the IV tubes out of his arm. Dropping back to his back, he gasped for breath as his throat burned, far too dry for him to continue speaking.

Mukuro just watched him for a moment, seemingly apathetic to his laughter or his suffering. He tilted his head towards the door as hurried footstep grew louder and halted outside the door. In a couple of quick, light strides, he stopped in front of the room entrance as well, just in time to give the doctors and nurses an eerie little smile.

"I'll be back in a little while, Byakuran-san," he said as he slipped past the newcomers and into the corridor.

There were only so many lab coats Mukuro could stand in one room.

***

Gokudera's eyes followed the misty wisps of cigarette smoke as it rose towards the warm, orange sky. Tsuna slid the door of the roof open gently, stepping through it with silent steps. He stood beside the door for a moment, watching.

Then, he smiled slightly and started towards his Storm Guardian, "Good afternoon, Gokudera-kun."

Automatically, "Tenth-!" Gokudera blinked and snuffed out the cancer stick against the cement balustrade as turned towards him. He walked a couple of steps closer, then stopped in front of him at a respectful distance away.

Tsuna's smile widened as he nodded to Gokudera, a subtle acknowledgment, before heading back towards the railings. He leaned his back against it, turning to face Gokudera. For a moment, his eyes flickered towards the cigarette lying on the floor.

"What happened, Gokudera-kun? Didn't you quit?"

Gokudera grimaced, and responded with a quiet exhale - a soft laugh. "I'm still trying. I'd been going cold turkey for the last few days," he explained. "Now I'm trying to wean myself off from the nicotine in _increments_, so the withdrawal symptoms won't affect my performance as much..."

"Gokudera-kun," Tsuna interrupted him firmly yet kindly. He reached forward and placed an arm on his Right Hand Man's shoulder, squeezing lightly. "I don't care whether or not it affects your performance - I know you always try your best, and that's all I ask for."

He stepped forward, eyes concerned and serious, "But are you really _all right_?"

The silver-haired guardian nodded initially, and then seemed to catch himself. Quickly, he looked away, eyes downcast. "_I'm_ all right, Tenth. I'm just... concerned for the baseball idiot, and..." he sighed deeply. "Byakuran is awake now," he nearly spat out.

He leaned his elbows against the balustrade once more and rested his chin over the back of his hands."It's just... It's not fair."

Tsuna sobered in an instant, turning to look at the fading sun and his lips were pressed into a line, turned downwards. Slowly, his fingers folded into a fist, and he sighed, a harsh, displeased gust.

"It isn't," a pause, and he brushed his hair out of his eyes. "Is... Is Yamamoto all right?"

Gokudera frowned at the question, and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know. He's... been keeping himself busy with Dino-san lately, and... Kusakabe-san says he's been a great help at the Foundation for some reason or other...

"Do _you_ think that's all right, Tenth?"

Tsuna sighed again, worrying at his lip as he turned to look at Gokudera. He gave the other man a small, reassuring nod and smile, "I'm sure he will be. Yamamoto isn't the sort to let things like this get him down, right?"

"... Right!" Gokudera smiled back, nodding almost brightly. _Almost._

"That baseball idiot... Don't worry, Tenth. Hibird will take care of him," he added with a wry grin. After a few seconds, however, he looked back at Tsuna calmly. "Is there anything you want me to do? About him, or... "

Tsuna _had_ to blink at that. "Hibird? What do you mean, Gokudera-kun?"

The mental image of Hibird flapping around Yamamoto, fussing like a mother hen did with her chicks made him chuckle under his breath, tension flowing from his shoulders like the tide going out.

Gokudera smiled easier at that. "I mean that it's almost... like they're birds of a feather - like they naturally understand each other," he shrugged, "even more than Hibari..." He trailed off. _Bird brained, the lot of them._

Tsuna's eyes turned serious immediately, but he still tried to keep the mood light. "That's a horrid pun, Gokudera-kun. As clever as I'm sure Hibird is, Yamamoto isn't _that_ bad." Especially since Yamamoto had long given up on keeping the facade of the 'mafia game'.

With a shake of his head, Tsuna continued, "There's something I would like you to do for me."

Gokudera just grinned sheepishly to Tsuna's reply, and pushed the doubts, turning back towards him, back straight. If the man was going to get down to business, Gokudera was prepared to do whatever was required for him - for the Vongola in its entirety.

Tsuna merely smiled at that, truly happy and relieved at Gokudera's dedication. But that was the problem right now, wasn't it? He took a step forward and reached out a hand to squeeze Gokudera's shoulder.

"Take care of yourself. You always have a bad habit of not doing that, Gokudera-kun. So that's all I want you to do right now." His eyes softened even further, brimming with concern. "Is that all right with you?"

Tense. Gokudera's shoulders felt so very tense. It was an effort to relax his stiff muscles, especially since Tsuna's hand was right there, and it would have been easier to feign being bright and easy-going even though they both knew that he was never truly good at that.

"Of course, Tenth," he nodded with a small, uncertain smile. He'd take care of himself like it was his dying will if that's what made Tsuna happy.

But that wasn't what Tsuna wanted. His smile faded slightly, a crease forming between his brow before he placed his other hand on Gokudera's shoulder, drawing his Storm Guardian closer. His amber eyes bore into green, and when he spoke he sounded concerned, yet firm.

"I'm serious about it." He shook his head, a little sad, a little angry at himself. "You still have your bad habit of not looking out for yourself. I don't want you to take care of yourself for _my_ sake, Gokudera-kun."

He gave Gokudera's shoulders a soft, reassuring squeeze. "I want you to do it for your _own_ sake."

Gokudera's hands twitched. He wanted to do something that would relieve Tsuna's concerns - kneel, kiss the back of his hand, offer him his pinky finger with a solemn promise. _Yes, believe me, I'll look out for myself. For you. For the famiglia - which is, of course, ultimately for myself as well._ But none of that would really make Tsuna feel any better, he knew.

"I... I will-," There was only so long that he could deal with Tsuna's eyes and intution turned upon him; he looked away, down to the cigarette butt on the floor. "I _am_... In the process."

Tsuna knew that Gokudera was trying his very best, that he was doing all that he could. Gokudera had never been one for halves, after all, and he always, always threw himself so entirely into whatever he was doing, disregarding his own body's needs and concerns. His dedication was what made him such a capable right hand, Tsuna knew this, yet...

They might be adults now, but sometimes Tsuna still wanted to just watch the fireworks with his friends. He wanted to forget about the mafia - for a few days, one day, or even just a couple of hours - and just _be_ with his friends, knowing that he wasn't putting them in danger and that every time he sent that out, he wasn't sending them to their deaths.

That every time he gave Gokudera something to do, his first friend wouldn't push himself so far and hard that he'd collapse.

Tsuna sighed softly, and let his hands fall back to the side. "I'm glad you are, Gokudera-kun. It's a relief."

Gokudera relaxed at those words. "Don't worry, Tenth. It's my job to stick around, and stay fit and reliable as your right hand man.

"You don't want me to do it for your sake _alone_," he acknowledged with a nod. "But I'm not. Not anymore..."

He might have added more, except the door to the roof was slammed open at that moment.

"Sawada! There you are!" Sasagawa Ryohei's smile seemed to light up the sky in the absence of the sun. "Come on, sis! I found him!" He yelled downstairs.

Tsuna's head jerked immediately towards Ryohei's voice, and his smile as Kyoko's head popped out from the door was brighter than even the sun itself. But he hadn't forgotten about Gokudera - far from it - turning to look at him even as Ryohei jogged over, swinging an arm over Gokudera's shoulder and grinning, but his mouth clicked back shut when he realized that Tsuna was about to speak.

_But I'm not. Not anymore..._ Tsuna's smile softened at the edge, and he laughed a little. That certainly did take a little weight off his shoulders. He nodded at Ryohei, thanking him for his temporary silence before capturing Gokudera's eyes with his again.

"That's good then." He reached out and placed a hand on Gokudera's arm, squeezing for a brief moment, "Though, I still would like you to take care of yourself for your _own_ sake, but one step at a time, right?"

And his ensuing chuckle was teasing.

Gokudera sputtered, initially confused. "R-right, but I..." He had been about to say that he'd take care of himself for his own sake - what did Tsuna mean by- _of fu-!_ He stiffened. There was a flush of warmth that spread over his cheeks as he realized that Tsuna's hyper intuition had picked up something that was wrong - so wrong.

But it was the Tenth - he was never entirely _off_ when he noticed anything, which meant - Gokudera's brows creased as he shied a glance at Ryohei, only half-speculative.

...No way. Came a feeble mental protest.

"So, Octopussy," Ryohei grinned, happily oblivious to Gokudera's internal turmoil, "How's about we give these lovebirds some alone time, and go do some of that close combat training we've been talking about?"

Tsuna blinked, looking from Gokudera's red face to Ryohei's grin, then back again. Oh wait- they hadn't realized it yet. Or perhaps there was only the barest seed of it, and his hyper intuition had picked up on it and exaggerated it like it was prone to do. But then...

He grinned slightly to Ryohei, turning away from them as Kyoko came up to him. Wrapping an arm around his fiancée's waist, he kissed her cheek lightly. Kyoko giggled, but she knew him for long enough to simply hold him close while he finished with Gokudera and Ryohei.

"Close combat training?" he raised an eyebrow, then his smile widened. "You're working hard, Gokudera-kun." Well, he grimaced mentally, _someone_ had to pick up the slack that Hibari's absence had created, and it was just like Gokudera to trust no one but himself to do it. Tsuna nodded.

"I'll see you later, then?"

Gokudera looked at Tsuna, then at Kyoko and back again. He didn't have the heart to take up more of their time together, so he just nodded. "O-of course, Tenth!" Ryohei was seriously going to get it for calling him a Bond Girl!

"Great!" Ryohei pumped a fist into the air, nearly cackling as he proceeded to drag Gokudera off. His sister missed her fiancé, and he knew that in the aftermath of that incident with Gesso, Tsuna would want her company more than ever. "Take care of of each other!" He gave a short little wave to the couple before turning back to Gokudera.

"Now, Octopussy, let's spar to the extreme!"

"If you keep calling me that," Gokudera growled as he stalked off, "I'll shave the grass off the top of your head like an lawnmower set on extreme."

***

To some degree, Gokudera was right. Yamamoto had been hanging out around Dino and Kusakabe, and Hibird was often seen flying around him or on his shoulder... but at the moment, he wasn't with any of them. Dino had gone back to his wife and children, Kusakabe was busy making sure the Foundation was still running smoothly, Hibird was... somewhere. Not here, in Yamamoto's office - not when Reborn's there for a private little chat.

Reborn seated himself down on the leather chair opposite Yamamoto, linking his fingers together and dropping his head on them. His dark eyes remained fixed on the other man, only half-covered by his hat's shadow.

"So, what are you going to do now? Stay here?"

"Ah," Yamamoto scratched his head and gave a wry laugh as he leaned back onto the couch. "My old man wants me to go back to Japan first - he's worried - but you know I can't up and leave just yet..."

Reborn shook his head immediately, "I didn't ask you what your father wants you to do, Yamamoto." His voice was calm and almost dry. "I asked what are you going to do."

"After all, Hibari is..."

Yamamoto shook his head. A dry laugh escaped his throat. "I'm not going to run away, kiddo. I haven't seen much of Gokudera lately but I know he and Ryohei, and even Lambo have been working hard running around with more missions than they should be handling...

"I'm not going to take a break when there's people running around thinking the Vongola's going to be easy pickings without their strongest guardian."

"Good," Reborn said, professional as always. He ignored the darkness in Yamamoto's eyes, ignored the downward turn of his mouth and simply stood up, looking at Yamamoto through the brim of his hat.

"The Family is more important than the individual, Yamamoto," he said quietly. "But I'm sure you know that."

"Is it, really?" Yamamoto quietly asked. "I couldn't help but notice that... the Gesso family's been falling apart without Byakuran, fighting amongst themselves like he was the only thing holding them together..."

"You misunderstand me," Reborn said immediately. But his lips were curved into a small, nearly imperceptible smile. "The Family _is_ the leader. Why do you think we take such measures to protect that silly student of mine?"

"But you're _all_ family to me," he looked up at the older man.

Reborn gave him a look, as if telling him not to be stupid, not to be purposefully obtuse. But those were honest eyes, and Yamamoto actually _meant_ what he said.

Sighing, the older hitman dropped down to sit on the couch beside the younger one. "Family - _kazoku_ - and the _famiglia_ are different things, Yamamoto. I thought you've already learnt that."

Yamamoto blinked at him, a slight crease in his brows. "The words... They mean different _people_ to me," not things, he didn't say - he didn't need to. "But there's no difference in my will to help them, should they need me around.

"Right now, I can't help Hibari anymore... But if I can help you and Tsuna and the rest, then that's what I'll do." He grinned then, "This Ring will reject me if I'm not the Vongola Rain guardian, right?"

Yamamoto had misunderstood him, Reborn thought silently, watching the other man. He wasn't talking about the difference between 'family' or 'Family' in the beginning at all - only that Hibari, as an 'individual' wasn't as important to the Family for it to fall apart. Yet Reborn supposed that if he said so, the gun that was hidden in Yamamoto's coat would be aimed at his throat in a moment.

He wasn't afraid of that - of course not - but it was a simple matter of indulgence. If Yamamoto wanted to carry the conversation in this direction to distract him from the true situation, then Reborn supposed he could suffer it.

"Correct. The Ring _would_ reject you if that was the case." He leaned backwards towards the couch, "But it hasn't, because you are the _true_ Rain Guardian of the Vongola Tenth." He stood up slowly, all lean grace and masked intent, and headed for the door.

Then, he turned back, "Tsuna still needs you. Don't fall apart now, just because of what happened to Hibari."

"I won't." Yamamoto actually chuckled as he stood as well. He shook his head as he made to open the door for his mentor. "Hibari wouldn't want that."

And Reborn had to laugh as well, taking half a step out of the door. He tipped his head back and smirked at Yamamoto.

"Well, you can ask him what he will want when he wakes up, can't you?"

Yamamoto's eyes shone as he nodded back.

***

The room was entirely silent except for the soft, consistent beeping of the machines. It was white, so white that Hibari's black hair contrasted so starkly against the bed and the pillows that it seemed to drain what little color he had away.

Yamamoto closed the door behind him as silently as he entered, a soundless sigh escaping his lips. It'd been... almost three months. Hibari was healthy, Nakamura had informed him in a clipped tone, but his body had to heal from all the strain that it had gone through. Not to mention the second bullet they had to take out from the same lung, and this time fired from within point blank range.

It wasn't like Yamamoto could forget...

He'd seen the blood, the perforations, the tissue damage and the power burns. He'd dreamt of shooting Hibari, over and over again, as if one bullet didn't work. _Try another one, try another one..._ There were seven dolls.

But nightmares were only nightmares. He wasn't about to give any more weight to them if he could help it. Hibari was alive and healing.

"Hey," Yamamoto smiled softly as he stopped next to the bed, "I'm back again." He looked at Hibari's small, pale face, then turned away to slot another DVD under the growing stack that no one else touched.

"I was out with Kusakabe-san," he explained. "Wasn't very far away though. Just had to take care of... Well, some film studio caught wind of your story and thought it was cool. Did some research too, about how you suddenly appeared one day in Namimori, and got rid of all the gangs around those parts. And founded the Foundation. Haha... Didn't know anything about the Vongola though."

The beeping on the monitor seemed, for the briefest of moments, to jump erratically before it evened out again, and Yamamoto nearly jumped out of his skin. He stared at the electrocardiograph. He stared at Hibari. It wasn't just hope, right? He wet his lips and continued as calmly as he could, "See, some mafia men were talking about you, and this Italian writer heard the tail end of the conversation, and liked your name - really into Japanese things, like that Spanner..." He edged closer.

Maybe it's Yamamoto's imagination working in overdrive again, but it almost seemed that Hibari's eyelids fluttered.

"So he started looking around, asking around," Yamamoto rambled on, "flew over to Namimori even, to see if he could find you for an interview or something, which is how the Foundation learned about him in the first place... And if you're at all interested, we have his cell phone number, home number, home address and-"

The machines suddenly screeched, high-pitched and quick, lines on the monitor jumping up and down. Hibari's hand on his side curled inwards even as his breathing turned entirely erratic, lips parted, gasping.

"Hibari!" Yamamoto gasped out loud, but he still had enough wit about him to know that there was little he could do here beside staying calm and alerting the doctors. As much as he wanted to, reaching out to touch Hibari would probably set him off on a panic attack - But _who's having a panic attack here?_

He mashed his palm against the call button that was next to the bed and tried to speak softly. "I'm getting your doctors, Hibari. _Yours._ You're safe. In Rome. You're safe..."

Hibari's eyes didn't open, and his breathing only grew even more erratic and shallow, hand now digging into the bed as if he was trying to clench it but wasn't able to. For him, it actually wasn't a panic attack, but simply that...

Breathing properly seemed to be rather difficult right now.

Yamamoto didn't know what else he could do, so he just kept talking, a quiet, stream-of-consciousness flow of words. "And you're cured. They told me it really was the cure, and that they could grow your lung back with some sort of stem... thing - and you should be able to_ breathe properly, so why-_"

There was a sudden, harsh, deep inhalation, and Hibari's jaw snapped back shut, the click resounding through the room as he dropped back down on the bed, flat on his back and disturbingly still. For another long moment, there was nothing but Hibari's loud breathing as the man visibly struggled to regain control.

His lips moved, mouthing something incomprehensible to Yamamoto.

But regardless of whether Yamamoto could read his lips, the door was pushed opened, and Nakamura rushed in with a team of people, all in white lab coats.

"Nakamura-san!" Yamamoto started away to give the experts some space, half of him wary and unwilling to move too far from Hibari's side.

Nakamura turned to him, nodding sharply at the boy - no, man who had visited this room almost everyday in the past three months before turning to his team of doctors and nurses. "Don't restrain him," he said curtly, pulling on his gloves. "Keep your distance. Let Hibari-san calm himself first."

And Hibari seemed to be calming himself down - his breathing eased, evening out until his chest was rising and falling at nearly regular intervals. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, his eyes opened the barest of slits.

In the time it took for Hibari to get his bearings, Yamamoto managed to catch his breath, fear for Hibari's life fluttering away with each breath to be replaced by relief and elation. He brushed a hand over his face, the corners of his lips quirking upwards slightly.

The doctors slowly moved in, checking his vitals and his condition. Nakamura glanced over to Yamamoto, uttering a sharp, "Get him some water," and then looking back at his patient.

Hibari still looked like hell warmed over, with eyes that were too dry to open fully, pale, cracking lips and an ash-pale complexion. But Nakamura was used to this, and he breathed a silent sigh of relief when he realized that with Hibari awake, he could actually go home soon.

And as Yamamoto ran out of the room with that charming, little boy smile back on his face, the doctor also realized it was the first time he'd seen that smile again in a _long_ while.

***

The next time Yamamoto stepped into the room, Hibari was propped up on a mountain of pillows, breathing deep and even. A remote control was on a nightstand beside him, and Hibari's eyes were fixed on the television in front of him.

A television which was emitting Yamamoto's own voice.

Hibari shifted on the bed, turning to face the door at the sound of footsteps. "Yamamoto Takeshi," he greeted quietly, still sounding hoarse.

But just hearing that voice made Yamamoto smile. "Hey..." He glanced at the television screen, gave a sheepish laugh, and walked over. The sunflower stand in the far corner practically screamed 'Ryohei,' sporting characteristically bold and illegible hiragana that had to be some get well message or other. From the fruits baskets next to it, on the floor, it looked like plenty of people had come in to crowd Hibari today. Yamamoto grinned at that, and decided not to get too close.

"Should I let you finish the show?"

There was a dark and rather ominous aura around Hibari as he narrowed his eyes, lips curling up in distaste. He was irritated, no doubt about that - ever since he had woken up, there had been endless amounts of visits from people who kept giving him things that he had no need or want for. The DVDs were just one of those things.

Motioning towards them, he asked, "What is this."

"Ah... Hibird went round with me on a couple of my last missions," Yamamoto shrugged. "Seems like he's a natural with finding good observation points, so I asked him to do me a favor while he's watching me work."

He had clapped his hands together and practically bribed the bird with food - lots of food - found a mini-camera that the clever creature wouldn't mind strapping on its back, and even managed to talk Kusakabe into helping. Somehow. He wasn't sure how.

"Squalo sent me a whole bunch of DVDs of his sword matches, so I figured, why not do something similar?"

Hibari looked at the other man for a long moment before turning his attentions back to the screen where Yamamoto was calmly and systematically decimating a whole group of herbivores. The Shigure Kintoki sliced through bodies with the ease of a hot knife through butter, blood spilling across the floors and walls. But the camera, it seemed, remained clean – Hibari expected nothing less from that bird.

Yamamoto was faster now, his movements more fluid than it had been when he had last fought the man. He moved from a defensive form into an offensive without a hitch or hesitation, hands steady and eyes unclouded. Even though the screen, Hibari could detect the killing intent, sincere and thick in the air, sharp and metallic like blood on a sword.

The wolf had finally shed its sheepskin. Hibari's lips curled up into a tiny, almost indiscernible smirk. He glanced back towards Yamamoto.

"So why do you show me this, Yamamoto Takeshi?"

"So that you can see for yourself," the Rain guardian replied with a slight tilt of his head, "whether I'm strong enough to stick around."

_I don't allow weaklings around me,_ Hibari once said. Yamamoto had then promised himself that he would become stronger whether Hibari would be around to see that - but Hibari was alive and awake...

Hibari motioned towards the screen with a hand, smirk fading on his lips as he raised an eyebrow. "And you think _this_ is enough," he stated tonelessly.

"Nah," Yamamoto grinned impishly, "There'll be more." Whether Hibari decide to watch them all or not, the fact that he was actually watching was a good start. Besides that, he had to admit that Squalo had the right idea: the videos served as grounding tools, and helped him with his form.

Hibari shook his head slowly, still wary of dizziness, his eyes closing as he leaned back against the pillows. He exhaled quietly, almost a sigh. "I do not mean the videos, Yamamoto Takeshi."

The other man blinked. After a moment, his eyes narrowed. "... We're not sparing again until you've healed completely," Yamamoto stated.

A chuff under the breath, almost inaudible, before Hibari smirked slightly. "Of course. I will be of no challenge to you right now." He said this matter-of-factly, shrugging because it was the truth. Right now he might be even more weakened than he was before that fight with Byakuran. It had been three months since he had done any physical activity at all - his muscles had all atrophied by now.

"Haha," Yamamoto scratched his cheek; it wasn't what he meant, but it was just like Hibari to think in those terms. "Yeah, but you'll get stronger again." He looked away from Hibari, towards the television screen, and grinned wryly, a little self-conscious but happier than he could articulate.

"What are you smiling about, Yamamoto Takeshi?"

If anything, those words just made him smile a little brighter. While Hibari sounded like he was completely bored, he wasn't one to start a conversation just to fill in silences. He wouldn't have voiced _anything_ that he didn't actually care to consider.

"You're awake," he simply replied when he looked back at Hibari.

But Hibari simply tilted his head, meeting Yamamoto's gaze straight on with his own impassive eyes. "That is not an explanation." Even if it was, it would be a ridiculous one - Hibari didn't know _why_ him being awake would make anyone smile.

He scowled slightly - that feeling was starting in his chest again, tightening his throat until his breath hitched.

"I'm smiling because you're awake," Yamamoto reiterated, but he'd caught that slight hitch. He moved closer. "How're you feeling?"

That, in Hibari's book, was a question that wasn't even worth answering. He turned away from Yamamoto towards the nightstand, reaching out towards the glass of ice water because, all of the sudden, there was a pickling at the back of his throat. His fingers closed around the glass, lifting it off the nightstand.

But as he tried to bring it close, it slowly started to slip out of his grasp.

Yamamoto had a hand around Hibari's before he realized.

Hibari's eyes snapped up to him immediately. "Let go."

But Yamamoto flushed faintly and blinked at the glass for a second; Nakamura had said that Hibari would need physiotherapy. "I'm... not hurting you, am I?"

A light chuckle, and Yamamoto relaxed his grip. His hand slid from Hibari's and down the glass so that he was holding it up in his palm. So that Hibari could lift it away when he was ready too.

Hibari was stubborn, but at times he did know his limits. Especially after recent events. Not lifting his glare from Yamamoto, he reached out with both hands around the glass, curling his fingers around the cool surface and making sure that he had a secure grip before pulling it towards him.

Scowling furiously, he sipped at the ice water - he _hated_ this, this despicable weakness. It wasn't a simple weakness anymore - he was weak, period. He couldn't even lift a glass by himself. How pathetic.

The thought made his knuckles whiten around the glass.

"If it's because you feel weak, it's only temporary." Yamamoto finally said. "You'll be up and biting people to death in no time."

In response, Hibari only turned away from him, placing the glass on the stand on the other side of the bed. Closing his eyes, he smoothed out his expression until it was impassive again. It was much easier now that the burning in his throat and the ache in his chest had stopped.

"You're speaking useless words, Yamamoto Takeshi."

"They must have some use," came the calm, reasoning reply. "You're responding."

But now that he had pointed it out, he... wondered if Hibari would stop talking to him out of pride or something. He laughed softly and _really_ hoped not. "Sorry."

A dark thought crossed his mind. His brows creased. If he hadn't pulled the trigger, Hibari wouldn't be so weak now. If he hadn't pulled the trigger, Hibari would have died sooner or later from that _Hibiscus_ thing. Would Hibari have preferred that?

Hibari let the silence stretch between them for a long moment. He didn't mind it, and it seemed that Yamamoto needed that time to think and mull upon whatever that was on his mind.

Linking his fingers together on his lap, Hibari turned to the other man again. "Sawada Tsunayoshi told me that it was you who found the cure."

"Huh?" That startled Yamamoto out of his thoughts. "Mukuro led us to it. Byakuran had given him a... a clue, I guess."

At the name, Hibari's eyes immediately sharpened, hands curling into a loose fist. "Byakuran." A pause; the tension in the air thickened as Hibari pressed down on the residual anger he still felt towards the other man. "Does he still live?"

Yamamoto's face went blank. "Ah," he gave a stiff nod. "Tsuna..." Must have seen something or other in Byakuran that made him stay his hand. Mukuro, with a devil-may-cry smile, had all but promised that he'd keep him in line from now on.

"Sawada Tsunayoshi saved him," Hibari guessed correctly from Yamamoto's expression. He closed his eyes for a moment, lips thinning in obvious displeasure. "Why?"

"Because... Tsuna wouldn't be Tsuna otherwise," Yamamoto responded quietly, a mirthless smile crawling over his lips. He had wanted to kill Byakuran, personally... but there was the chance that Hibari would wake up wanting to do that himself.

" Then he is a fool," Hibari said sharply. It wasn't just personal vendetta speaking, but simple common sense. His hand clenched around the bed sheets, and the air seemed to move even slower around him, caught up in his anger.

He breathed out.

"I should have bitten him to death," he said, almost contemplatively.

_TBC_


	16. Chapter 16

**Windshear   
**

Part 16/?

**Authors:** Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
Characters/Pairings:** Yamamoto, Hibari, Tsuna, and Mukuro, with Varia cameos. Implied Byakuran/Mukuro and Mukuro-Tsuna, and eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.**  
Rating: **PG-13**  
Words: **6893**  
Summary:** Revelations abound when the Varia catch up to Tsuna, and Yamamoto still has something Hibari needs to hear.

Tsuna knew that it wasn't really Mukuro sitting next to him on the bench. Rather, it was Chrome. Mukuro was actually pushing Byakuran's wheelchair back at the Gesso's Roman base. If it could be believed, Byakuran was... _touched_ by the... Vongola Tenth's mercy, _and if same-sex marriages were ever to be legalized in Italy-_ Tsuna was seriously disturbed by the prospects of Byakuran proposing to Mukuro.

_Who were they trying to kid?_

Mukuro recognized the sour expression on Tsuna's face at a glance, and he chuckled, leaning back against the bench and linking his hands behind his head. He turned to the other man, quirking an eyebrow. "Why the angry face, Tsunayoshi-kun?"

"You shouldn't have to do what you're doing," Tsuna said quietly, eyes closed as he tried to school his face into a blander expression. He felt like he had failed somehow, as a boss. They'd all survived the 'nine years and ten months later', which was great, but... everything after this point was now a foggy road without a map or compass.

And Mukuro had to laugh at that, because only Tsuna would ever use words like 'should' and 'should not' with Mukuro. He shook his head slightly, leaning into Tsuna with a wide, teasing grin. "Are you _worried_ for me now? We're just playing a game, between us."

_With lives at stake,_ Tsuna mentally filled in. He just looked back worried at Mukuro, searching his face. But they'd already had that conversation about being careful, about not doing something crazy and life-threatening. Mukuro had promised him already, and to bring it up again would just say that he didn't trust his word. Tsuna had faith in him, and he knew that he needed to show it. So he smiled back. "You and your dangerous games... I just hope that you're both playing by the same rules."

Mukuro smiled, inclining his head to Tsuna and acknowledging the concern. Part of him still wondered how it was possible for Tsuna to care so much about him even after what he had done to him - and his friends - ten years ago.

It's a mystery that he still had not managed to solve.

He shrugged, ""Well, even if we aren't... I know how to take care of myself, Tsunayoshi-kun."

"I know," Tsuna nodded. That, and Mukuro had his own support group. Far be it for Tsuna to tell him how to work when Mukuro knew them best. It was Byakuran's scheming they should really be concerned about.

"How is Byakuran doing?"

Mukuro knew exactly what Tsuna was worried about. He simply shook his head, reaching over to press lightly on Tsuna's nose playfully, still smiling. "You have a crease between your brows again, Tsunayoshi-kun~"

Tsuna ducked his head with a slight, but automatic blush. Casting his inquisitive gaze from Mukuro, he rubbed at his forehead as he thought about what Mukuro was really saying. _There's nothing new that you don't already know about. Don't worry._ He nodded. "I worry too much."

"You do," Mukuro confirmed, leaning back against the bench again. He lidded his eyes slightly, staring up at the blue sky overhead. Humming quietly, he twirled his long ponytail with a finger. "He does seem to be recovering, though."

"You... are glad about that," Tsuna tilted his head, peering up at him cautiously as he spoke. It wasn't an accusation. It wasn't a pure statement. In fact, he was curious. Mukuro did like Byakuran, right? "Aren't you?"

"Ahh..." Mukuro's smile widened a little as he turned to look Tsuna in the eye. "Maybe I am."

There was that unreadable look, along with that awkward feeling again. Tsuna's lips thinned slightly, and his brows once more briefly creased, but it was a familiar feeling so he just sighed to himself. He was being silly, which wouldn't do. He was... he was the boss.

"How's Joushima-kun?"

Sitting back up straight, Mukuro folded his hands on his lap as he turned away from Tsuna. How silly, this boy-turned-man, was. It was a trait he still hadn't managed to shake off. Mukuro shook his head to himself, a rather amused smirk curving his lips.

"He's all right now," he replied, mismatched eyes meeting amber again. "In much better shape than Gloxinia-kun, at that."

_Gloxinia..._

What happened to Gloxinia was... certainly curious, to say the least. Gloxinia had disappeared by the time the Gesso returned to their Roman base. The idea that Mukuro had finally flat out killed him crossed everybody's mind, but Mukuro himself simply smiled and asked if they really though he had the time of day to spare on that Rain guardian.

Ex-Rain guardian apparently, because when Byakuran heard what had happened when he'd specifically asked Mukuro to 'fetch the cure' he didn't seem too pleased.

Gloxinia had been exiled.

But if anyone would know where he was now, Tsuna was pretty sure it'd be Mukuro.

Mukuro smirked a little at the thoughtful expression that suddenly crossed Tsuna's face. He had a pretty good idea what the Vongola Tenth was thinking about.

A soft laugh, "You don't have to worry about that one. He's... well taken care of, to say the least."

It didn't make sense, but Tsuna supposed that saying it to Mukuro would have been redundant. "He still holds a Mare ring," he pointed out instead. "Byakuran hasn't given up on the rings yet..." He looked at Mukuro for confirmation.

Mukuro laughed at that, throwing his head back in genuine amusement. "The Giglionero has come calling a few times - that Gamma man is really _interesting_, especially with his... ah, fixation on their young leader." His smirk at Tsuna was full of mischief and innuendo. "He reminds me a lot of Hayato-kun."

Swinging his legs on the bench like a child, his mood turned entirely serious again.

"He's not one to give up power so easily, Byakuran-san. And... yet, he still hasn't claimed that Rain ring from Gloxinia-kun." Although his lips were smiling, his eyes remained as sharp as knives. "It's curious, isn't it?"

"Well, he still going through physiotherapy, isn't he?" Tsuna sighed, shoulders sagging a bit. He couldn't help but think that their temporary 'alliance' was just that deceptive moment of peace when the eye of the storm is directly overhead.

But at that moment, his phone rang.

"Ah!" He found it by the third ring. "Hello?"

"_Vooooi_~ Boss wants to see you!"

"Squa- _Xanxus_?!"

A growl came through the phone. "Voiiiii, are you deaf now? Yea he does!" Tsuna could imagine him screaming into the phone while waving the sword around him, and he winced. "What is this shit about the Gesso and that Cloud bastard of yours?"

"Uh..." Tsuna was holding the phone at arm's length, boggled that he could still hear it so clearly. _Note to self: let the embarrassment and ensuring chaos be a reminder not to piss off your elite assassination squad._ The young don gulped, feeling a chill settle down his spine.

He wasn't scared of them anymore. Really, he wasn't.

It didn't mean he _liked_ them any better; Squalo was the Varia's best PR person.

"It- it's a long story, Squalo-san..."

Mukuro smiled fondly to himself as he watched Tsuna nearly flail around in response to the Varia's call. He could hear every word clearly from where he was sitting - that silver-haired swordsman was still as crass as ever. Shaking his head to himself, he leaned backwards again and watched Tsuna handle them.

"A long story?" Squalo echoed the words in a near-animalistic growl. "Then you better start on it now, Sawada."

Tsuna frowned. He had a secure line, was in a safe place, and he trusted Mukuro now. He was used to the Varia being severely biased, their own leader being the only one they listen to, but that was no reason to make things difficult...

After a brief silence, he opened his mouth again, and spoke in a firmer tone. "Hibari-san was shot once... by a special bullet the Gesso had been working on. It had a slow acting disease that was meant to break his lungs down from the inside.

"Byakuran never admitted that he had ordered a hit on Hibari, but when we approached him for a cure, he... made an arrangement with us. That's why they fought."

There was a sudden scrabbling at the end of the line, and a crashing _thud_ before a voice that was distinctive Squalo was heard to be screaming and cursing. Another crash and several more shouts and screams later, the line finally reached some sort of peace and quiet.

Then Xanxus's voice came over the line, "So is that trash dead yet?" It's impossible to know which of the two he meant, really.

"...No." Tsuna was positively scowling now, a look of disgust in his eyes. From the sound of it, Xanxus had repeatedly slammed Squalo against a hard and flat surface, rather than asking for the phone like a _normal, decent human being_. And kept doing it until he stopped screaming.

"No one died, Xanxus," his tone was cold and disapproving. Bunching a fist against the fabric of his pants, Tsuna resisted the urge to ask about Squalo's condition. He didn't know whether it would help, but the sinking feeling in his gut said that calling attention to it would just make things worse for the Varia head's right hand man.

Mukuro was watching Tsuna blatantly now, a small smile still tugging on the edges of his lips. That Tsunayoshi-kun - he was absolutely _fascinating_ when he was angry like this, brows drawn together, knuckles white and eyes flaring with the flames he was so known for. It reminded Mukuro that no matter how well-meaning and simply kind Tsuna was, he was still a dangerous man.

And he liked that reminder.

Shifting his position slightly, he leaned in to listen.

"_What_?" Xanxus was saying on the other line, all spitting rage and incredulity still. "Why is that flower bastard still not dead?"

Tsuna went silent. Too silent. He glanced at his Mist guardian, and whatever he was seeing only seemed to strengthen his resolve. His lips thinned. His heart wasn't in arguing though. It never had been. "He's important..." He looked away from Mukuro, staring at nothing, possibly just the clear blue sky. "You don't just strip a _famiglia_ of its don... without troublesome consequences, which we don't need." He bit his lip when those words came out.

For a moment, Mukuro could only stare at Tsuna even when the other man glanced away. He sat up suddenly- it couldn't _be_, could it? Tsuna couldn't have-

Even while Mukuro's head suddenly swam with his sudden realization, Xanxus continued, barking into the phone, "Ch'. That's why you got to kill him - get rid of the head and the problem's solved. You're still too fucking soft."

"Be that as it may, he survived the fight, and is now considering an alliance. If he had died the rest of the Gesso would still be running, and you can bet they won't be acting like headless chickens," Tsuna gritted out.

He didn't believe for a moment that Byakuran really wanted an alliance, but... he wanted to believe.

Xanxus snorted into the phone, perfectly disdainful and disbelieving. "It's your grave to dig." A pause, and then hushed voices, as if muffled by a hand. When he next spoke, the words were a growl, nearly a threat. "Why didn't you inform us?"

"...He challenged _Hibari Kyouya_ over our rings, Xanxus," Tsuna tried not to let his words become too curt, but at the same time he knew that mentioning the rings would be seen as a challenge. "It wasn't your battle," Tsuna calmly continued.

"Aren't you the one who keep saying that we are part of the Vongola too?" Xanxus mocked. "Taking your words back now, _Tenth_?"

"It wasn't so much about the Vongola as it was about the rings," Tsuna sighed, slumping back slightly against Mukuro, and against the bench. "Don't take it personally, Xanxus. The Varia weren't required to be there. The Ring guardians were there on... request."

Mukuro looked down at him, absent-mindedly running his hand through Tsuna's hair. He was frowning, lips pursed, lost in thought.

Xanxus growled over the line, obviously irritated at being reminded of his defeat ten years ago. There's a loud noise like the phone was slammed to the table, or thrown to the floor, before a quiet clatter, and then Squalo's voice, much more quiet and subdued than before. "Not talking 'bout that, Sawada. You didn't even give us a clue about what was happening.

"What would've happened if that bastard lost, voii?"

Tsuna squeezed his eyes shut. "He wouldn't have lost," he said firmly. "I wasn't trying to drag the past out, Squalo-san. I was saying that it was Hibari-san's battle. I never doubted that Hibari-san would win, so that's moot point."

He glanced up at Mukuro again, and blushed, feeling somewhat chastised... or something.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a long while, broken periodically by muffled, shouting voices. Then Squalo's voice came over the line again, "Whatever you say, _Tenth_."

_Click._

Tsuna let out a breath that he didn't know he had been holding, but the end of that conversation brought no relief. He blinked slowly and stuffed his cell phone back into his pocket, feeling small and so very tired.

He gave Mukuro a wry grin... and couldn't think of anything to say.

Mukuro simply looked at him, eyes still conflicted even as his hand continued to pat Tsuna's hair gently. Tilting his head to the side, he smiled, but it was empty. "Hey, Tsunayoshi-kun..."

Tsuna straightened up self-consciously, ducking away from Mukuro's hand in his hair. "I'm sorry you had to hear that," he managed. He _knew_. He knew he didn't always make the best decisions, and some of those decisions were probably going to bite him in the ass one day. Hopefully, they wouldn't all be on the same day.

Shaking his head, Mukuro leaned back on the bench again. There was a teasing smirk on his lips, but that was empty as well, as if he was simply doing what was automatic and comfortable for him. "Did you help Byakuran-san for my sake, Tsunayoshi-kun~?"

Slowly, Tsuna shook his head. "It wasn't just..." He sounded calm, but he wasn't looking at Mukuro as he replied. "I mean what I said. Killing someone doesn't automatically make everything all better."

Mukuro tilted his head to the side, looking for all intents and purposes like an inquisitive bird. His smile widened. "You're not telling the whole truth."

"He... was calling your name," Tsuna quietly informed his Mist guardian "Calling your name when he was on the ground and in pain, just... distressed that you weren't back yet." He looked into Mukuro's eyes, searching for some sort of a response.

Mukuro blinked. He looked at Tsuna, leaning in closer to see if Tsuna was, for once, joking, trying to get his revenge for the countless pranks Mukuro had played on him before. Yet Tsuna simply wasn't the sort to seek out revenge, was he? Especially not with such important information...

His lips twitched. And then he started to laugh, shoulders shaking, a hand covering his mouth to muffle the sounds. Through his chuckles, he said, "You're wrong."

It was Tsuna's turn to blink and stare. "Wrong?" He shifted so that he faced Mukuro properly, opening his mouth to protest and then snapping it shut again.

Reaching down, Mukuro tweaked Tsuna's nose teasingly, a fond smile curving his lips. "Byakuran-san and I aren't like you and Kyoko-san, Tsunayoshi-kun."

Tsuna felt a flush of warmth at the mention of Kyoko. He rubbed his nose and tried to suppress the sheepish smile the thought of 'him and her' brought.

"You told me that Byakuran-san likes you, Mukuro... It's true."

Mukuro threw his head back and laughed, truly amused this time. He shook his head, leaning forward and his smile was genuine now. "He likes me - that is true. But he's simply _fascinated_ with me. I'm his playmate, the Black Rook to his White King. The moment I make a wrong move..." He mimed a slash across his throat, and then chuckled.

Despite the other man's laughter, Tsuna's eyes grew wide with concern. "Mukuro," came the startled gasp. "That- if that's true then _why_ do you _still_..." " His eyes went serious. "Reborn didn't put you up to this, did he?"

Mukuro laughed again. "Thank you for worrying, Tsunayoshi-kun~" Despite the teasing tone, his gratitude was sincere; or as sincere as he could be anyway. "But that Arcobaleno has no place in this. I play this game for my own purposes." He tapped his lip, looking thoughtful for a moment before turning to Tsuna with a smile, "Well, in the other future, he killed me, didn't he? I'm just making sure he doesn't here."

_By becoming Byakuran's lover?_ Tsuna just... blushed at Mukuro.

"Well," he looked down and away from Mukuro once more. "I think it's working... whatever you're doing. I might be wrong, but I really think he wants you around."

_I'd hate to think that I've been playing such a dangerous game without possibilities of a reward_, Mukuro thought sardonically. Outwardly, his smile simply widened, and he nodded. "He does, in his own way. That's enough."

***

"Enough."

Hibari's voice was quiet, but only because he didn't have quite so much energy to spare. Most of his attention was spread between the parallel bars that drew sweat upon his brows, had his knuckles bone white. And the floor. Let's not forget the very close floor.

The room was all but empty, save for Yamamoto hovering right next to him, and at the moment, those hand supporting his back and chest were not at all needed or appreciated.

"Let go," Hibari growled, voice barely audible and still hoarse despite having woken up for a few days. His legs were shaking, and his arms were in no better shape, but his pride refused to allow him to let Yamamoto help even further.

Yamamoto bit his lip, but he didn't make a verbal response. He simply made sure to let go slowly, in case Hibari was still unstable, then stood up again. Much as he wanted to coddle Hibari, it wouldn't do the other man any good, and they both knew it.

Gritting his teeth hard, Hibari pushes himself forward, forcing his sore, tired legs to take just one more step. How pathetic; he couldn't even walk a hundred meters. It was inconceivable and illogical that he should be _weaker_ after his illness was cured, yet...

His hands were slowly losing their grip on the metal bar, due more to the sweat on his palms rather than weakness alone. He hissed, entirely irritated, and gripped on harder, pushing himself to his limits and beyond.

A few more steps, and Hibari would reach the end of the bars. A few more steps, and Yamamoto would gently coax him back onto the bed, because he'd refused the wheelchair outright, as if it would only serve to parade his weakness; the parallel bars had to be set up in his room instead, on the condition that he would not try to use it without another person there.

Yamamoto didn't try to make small conversation now, not when Hibari was so evidently frustrated with _everything_. In stark contrast to when Hibari was in coma, and the silence had been stifling, it was all right now. He just smiled when Hibari finally reached the end.

Hibari blatantly ignored the proffered hand, exhaling in a sharp huff before trying to turn around, knuckles white against the bars. The world was swimming in front of him again, but he tried to push the dizziness away nonetheless, determined to proceed. His body had always obey _his_ wishes, and he refused to bow down to its limitations now.

Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, he breathed in. And let go of the bars.

He started crumpling to the floor and Yamamoto pulled Hibari back before his knees could give out completely. "Hibari," the other man sighed softly, holding him up so that he could find his footing again. Steadily, Yamamoto continued, "Come on, it's break time."

Instinctively, Hibari started to struggle against the arms around him. His vision was fading in and out, greying as the edges and his breathing came in short, shallow pants. Still, he refused to accept any help, and when he finally found his footing again, he gave Yamamoto a glare, angry and no little humiliated by how weak he was.

"Shut up. I'll do what I want."

Yamamoto looked from Hibari's legs back up to meet his eyes once more, and chose to ignore the first few words. "You will. But one step at a time, okay? You're already doing better than yesterday," he grinned briefly, but spoke seriously when he continued. "It'll take you longer to recover if you keep pushing your body too hard."

"I said shut up," Hibari's voice was barely a murmur, his hand clenching loosely around Yamamoto's shirt as he tried to stabilise himself without the other man's help. Those words, rather than reassuring or comforting him, were only irritating him even further. He was not someone who needed their feathers soothed and be cooed over.

His knees threatened to buckle again, unused to holding his weight and too tired from his exertions.

"I said it is break time," Yamamoto responded after a pause. "I'm not telling you to stop for the day. Just for lunch." He was learning rather quickly to ignore people when they told him to shut up.

Hibari's eyes slid shut for a moment, exhaustion creeping over him but he shoved it away quickly, forcing his eyes to open again. He looked at Yamamoto, scowling furiously still but he nodded once, sharply - it was as much assent as he would ever give.

Yamamoto smiled back, shifting a hand from under Hibari's shoulder to wrap around it instead. "Come on then," he said as he slowly led the other man over.

_Left. Right. Left. Right. That's right..._

Hibari's eyes were closed, and he was swaying a little dangerously. But he continued walking, taking each step out of sheer, dogged determination if nothing else. Yamamoto's hands on his shoulders actually _did_ help, loathed as he was to admit it. In fact-

He hated this entire situation. He hated how weak he was; how weak he had gotten and how he was _before_, to not even be able to finish the job and kill that Byakuran bastard before Tsuna had the chance to save him. Anger was his default status nowadays, and it didn't help that he wasn't recovering as fast as he wanted himself to.

"Here we go," Yamamoto pulled the blanket down, and loosened his grip around Hibari, so that the other man could move onto the bed by himself. Eyeing the clock on the wall, he noted that it was actually quite a bit past lunch time. It was funny how he hadn't noticed; the main thing was getting Hibari to actually give it a rest though.

Hibari ignored him for most part, barely finding his feet again as he stumbled towards the bed, nearly losing his balance again before sitting down on it. That short little walk had left him panting hard and sweating, his fingers and toes feeling cold and almost numb and his muscles aching.

He breathed out, squeezing his eyes shut in sheer aggravation.

Yamamoto couldn't help but reach out and brush Hibari's fringe back, and wipe the sweat off his brow. No one had dared to cut his hair in the last three months, not while he was in coma, and now that he was awake, no one wanted to bring it up if Hibari didn't do it first. He wondered if Hibari cared, or if everything else frustrated him so much that... It probably wasn't very high on his list of priorities, Yamamoto thought.

A soft growl, and Hibari reached up to bat Yamamoto's hand away. That touch simply reminded him of how long his hair had gotten; how long he had been in a coma; how much time he had lost. He glared at the taller man, lips pressed into a line before as he moved backwards to lean against the headboard again. His chest heaved from the effort.

"Don't touch me."

Yamamoto paused and just looked at him silently for a moment before retracting his hand.

"You're strong, Hibari. Whatever you're thinking... you could have died, but you beat Byakuran instead." He sat down on the chair by the bed, and started pouring him a glass of water.

Hibari took the glass of water from him with both hands, tilting the glass back to drink from it. He gave Yamamoto a glance before snorting under his breath, turning away and scowling even more furiously than before.

"I don't need to be comforted, Yamamoto Takeshi," he placed the glass down on the nightstand.

"Heh..." With a wry grin, Yamamoto responded, "It's the truth, Hibari Kyouya. Every time I come back here, you're doing better and better."

Come to think of it, Yamamoto didn't think he would be too surprised if he returned from a mission one day to find that Hibari had checked himself out of the doctors' care, and returned to his Foundation.

Turning his head away, Hibari breathed out explosively, his hands tightening around the cup. "Not quickly enough."

He wasn't used to being weak; being helpless. Limits had always been a near-alien concept to him, yet now he seemed to be learning more about them than ever.

"Well! Time to fuel up then." Yamamoto answered brightly, turning to the canteen that he'd placed on the table when he first entered the room. "Today's special is minestrone soup with pasta and pesto," he grinned. The doctors were very stern with their _no raw food_ policy. "Haha, Bianchi-san wanted to show me how to make it, but Sasagawa-san reminded me we learned how in Home Economics. You remember? Did you ever learn how to make that in your year?"

Hibari shrugged at that. He had refused to eat hospital food, and for some reason he couldn't fathom, Yamamoto offered to bring him meals. "I don't attend those classes," he stated. "They are useless."

"Seems useful _now_," Yamamoto quipped. Carefully, he spooned some of the soup into a bowl, allowing it to cool somewhat before handing it over to Hibari. "Especially since you're not eating the food that the doctors prepare... What's wrong with it?"

Hibari took the bowl, bringing it to his lips to sip it. He shrugged again, tilting his head back to meet Yamamoto's eyes. "I don't eat bad-tasting food."

"Haha," Yamamoto smiled brightly at the probably-unintended complement. "Am I spoiling you now? Never knew you were a picky eater."

Hibari simply gave him a flat, impassive stare. "I only eat what I like, Yamamoto Takeshi. That had never changed."

"Then I guess I just naturally make food that's to your taste," Yamamoto laughed. He seemed pleased with himself. Or Hibari. Most likely both.

That got him a narrowed eyes and a glare. If Hibari wasn't so tired and without his weapons, he would have gotten a tonfa to the face by now. "You're presuming too much."

The other man blinked, and leaned closer, peering at him curiously. "Am I wrong?"

It took barely any effort for Hibari to reach out and literally push Yamamoto's face away from his. "That is inconsequential."

"Oh really?" Yamamoto's voice was filled with mirth, and his breath was warm against Hibari's palm. A second later though, his eyes grew wide and he caught Hibari's wrist gently. "Hey now... it's okay for you to touch me when you tell me not to touch you?"

He was teasing.

And Hibari immediately wrenched his wrist out of Yamamoto's loose grasp, pressing two fingers against the hollow of the other man's throat, nails dangerously close to his trachea. His physical strength might have failed him, but his reflexes were definitely recovering. "I have always done what I want," he intoned.

But there was none of the usual deadly intent behind his words, and Yamamoto seemed to sense it. Letting his hand close around Hibari's fingers, he asked evenly with a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

"So what do you want?"

Hibari's suddenly narrowed even further. He tried, lightly, to tug his hand away, but Yamamoto didn't let go. So he leaned in even further, the smirk growing a little more bloodthirsty as his voice dropped into a low, deadly growl. "Tell me what you meant by 'I haven't told you something you really need to hear'."

A look of shock wiped the smile from Yamamoto's flushing face, and he promptly let go of Hibari.

"Oh."

He blinked, looked down, re-focused on the bowl of soup in Hibari's other hand . "...Eat first. Soup's going cold."

Hibari let that hand fall back onto the bed, curling slightly around the bowl of soup. He tilted his head to the side, looking like a curious child. "You're avoiding the question."

He sipped at the soup.

Yamamoto laughed awkwardly, and scratched his nose, casting his glance aside. "No," he grinned sheepishly. "I'll tell you..." He trailed off and looked out the window.

Lifting the bowl, Hibari took another drink of the soup, chewing on the pieces of pasta and vegetables. But his eyes didn't leave Yamamoto, nearly boring a hole into his skin with its intensity.

The weather's been really nice all day, Yamamoto distractedly determined. He stood up and walked over to the window, peering out. _I wonder where Hibird's flown off to- What do I say?!_

"Answer me, Yamamoto Takeshi."

"Ah-" He looked over his shoulder towards Hibari with a shy tilt of his head. "Haha... It's funny," he turned around, scratching the back of his head. "It's not really supposed to be funny, but it's been easy to admit to myself and anybody else..."

He stepped away from the window as he spoke and carefully pried the empty bowl from Hibari's fingers, having the distinct feeling that if he didn't stop babbling soon, his love interest would chuck the bowl at him before he could even start to confess.

The thought just made the situation more amusing to Yamamoto, and he was hard pressed not to make things even more awkward by laughing like a nervous wreck. "But it's you, and... I really like you, Hibari. Really, really like you," he squeezed his hand lightly. "That's... the thing I wanted to tell you."

Hibari stared at him for a long, silent moment, taking in the nearly deer-in-the-headlights look, in the nervous tension running all along his shoulders and arms, in those wide, sincere eyes. Reaching outwards, he pulled Yamamoto forward a little more, scrutinizing him even further, trying to find out what his words meant.

He understood what Yamamoto was saying, in terms of the words alone. He has heard the girls say them enough, back in Namimori Middle School and during irritating occasions such as Valentine's Day. He knew what they meant, yet... Yet whatever Yamamoto was saying made no sense. Such affection – such _weakness_ – was only for herbivores, and Yamamoto was a wolf, whether in sheep's clothing or not.

Breathing out a sharp, irritated breath, Hibari bit out a word, "Explain."

"Eh?" Briefly, as he was jerked forward, Yamamoto got lost in dark, curious eyes. He blinked, flustered by the attention. However much he had expected Hibari to stare at him in anger or incomprehension - or both - and however much he had expected Hibari to ask him just what he was talking about, Yamamoto was not prepared for that almost innocent look in Hibari's eyes.

It was almost as he couldn't fathom why or how anyone would like him.

"...Explain what exactly?"

Hibari only glared harder in response, gritting his teeth together and crossing his arms. He's getting more and more irritated by the second, simply because he didn't _understand_. "What do you mean, Yamamoto Takeshi?"

"By liking you?" He blinked slowly. Twice.

"I mean..." Yamamoto tilted his head, "at first, I thought it was just respect, 'cause you're strong and you look cool," He licked his lips as more words sprang to the fore. "You live by your own principles, and you never allow anything to hold you back if you can help it.

"I liked you as a fellow guardian. You don't hang out with us too much, but you were dependable. You're always there when the Vongola needs help, and... It felt nice, when you were around, 'cause you never ever wanted me to act like anything that I wasn't, and-"

Hibari shook his head immediately, cutting through the flow of incomprehensible words. "You're making no sense, Yamamoto Takeshi," he wasn't being harsh; simply matter-of-fact. "That is not my question."

He breathed out, confusion clear in his eyes as he looked into the other's dark ambers one, "Tell me how do you 'like' me."

"...As a friend. A colleague... A..." Yamamoto blushed and looked down briefly. He didn't know how to continue without sounding presumptuous, but he needed to say it. He started telling Hibari. He wasn't going to run away in the middle. "A potential lover," he said clearly, looking back into his eyes once more.

For a long, long moment, Hibari simply stared at him, still uncomprehending. A 'lover' - he had heard that word used before too. He knew what it meant, in terms of the dictionary definition at least. A soft sigh, and he tilted his head to the side, still scrutinizing Yamamoto closely as if those features and eyes could clear up the confusion he felt right now.

"Do you mean that you want to-" he made a small face, "have sex with me? Is that what you mean, Yamamoto Takeshi?"

"... Not... at the moment," Yamamoto responded with an eyebrow twitching slightly. "Not if you're not comfortable with the idea either," he quickly added. He didn't know how he knew. Hibari just... _felt_ like a virgin.

"But you want to," Hibari stated, leaning forward slightly. "Is that what do you mean by 'lover'?"

"Ahaha, maybe 'boyfriend,' would have been a better word." Yamamoto scratched his head. "I want to, sometimes, but that's not all there is to it.

"I mean... I want to be close. I like... just talking to you. Just cooking for you."

Hibari shook his head, running a hand through his hair and he continued to stare at Yamamoto. "Do you want to be my lover or my servant, now?"

Yamamoto stared at him like he was wondering if it was a trick question. "...Your boyfriend."

Dropping back against the pillows, Hibari let out an explosive breath. "I don't know what you're talking about," he declare, visibly frustrated. "You are behaving like a herbivore, speaking of 'like' and 'lovers' and 'boyfriend' - _crowding_ - yet you are not one." He narrowed his eyes at Yamamoto, eyes still swimming with confusion and no little annoyance. "Or _are_ you?"

At that, Yamamoto gave him a wry grin. "I don't think I'm a herbivore, but then... I don't really think I'm a carnivore either. I'm just human, Hibari. I just... wanted you to know that I really like you."

Hibari gave him a dark, deeply irate glare. "If that's all you have to say, then get out."

For a second, Yamamoto didn't seem to be breathing. He went so still. Then, he relaxed, taking a deep breath. Soft laughter came out, and he drew back. "Thought you'd say something like that." He swallowed.

"Well," Yamamoto stood, putting on a neutral, automatic smile, and picked up the bowl, taking it over to the sink attached to the adjacent wall. "That's not the only reason why I'm here, so I'm not going anywhere just yet." He turned on the tap and washed the bowl mechanically.

Was that a rejection, he wondered, or was Hibari just annoyed and confused... and pissed off?

As he turned off the tap, he looked over his shoulder. "Hibari... Are you angry?"

Watching him as he puttered around the room, Hibari sighed, his hand clenching loosely around the sheets. "You were speaking of confusing things and being a weakling." A pause, and the next words seemed to have been forced out of him, "I... thought you were better than that."

_Apparently not_ - the words rang out loud and clear between them.

"You're wrong." Yamamoto pointed out, "Whether you're an herbivore or not, it's human nature to gather people around you." He rubbed his neck as he spoke, trying not to take 'disgusting' personally. It wasn't meant as an attack. It just wasn't.

"And you're human, Hibari. You do it, too, with your Foundation, with your Hospital... with Namimori. You gather people around you like they're your pack. Does it make you weak? Do you wait for others to 'protect' you?" He shook his head.

"Affection... isn't a weakness in and of itself. It only becomes one if you allow it to go unchecked... and that's where discipline comes in. It... I understand why you might think it's disgusting, but it doesn't have to be."

Hibari pushed himself forward, away from the soft pillows. The effort made the world go black for the briefest of moments, but he ignored that. He was incensed enough by Yamamoto's words to ignore it.

It was simply too _baffling_, everything Yamamoto was saying. None of his words made sense in the logic of the world that Hibari lived in, where the strong and the weak were clearly delineated, and those few in between – such as the Vongola – all could be separated into their own neat categories and dealt with simply. Hibari lived in a world governed by reason and rules – his own reason, his own rules and none of what Yamamoto's words fitted into that.

All of this reminded him unpleasantly of when he first met Dino Cavallone.

"Don't confuse my Foundation with you herbivores," he gritted out, voice still a little hoarse. "They are _mine_ like Namimori is mine – part of my territory. I don't let them crowd around me – only Tetsu can remain by my side, and he relays the orders. I am the leader."

He breathed out, hands trembling with sheer frustration and he clenched them even harder around the bed sheets. "All of you herbivores... depending on each other, relying on ridiculous things like friendship or affection, relying on each other instead of on yourselves." Blinking, he shook his head hard, dislodging the sweat beading on his lashes. "And you say that it isn't repulsive?"

"_No_," came the earnest reply. "No, it's not." Yamamoto seemed at a loss for words, except the words kept coming. "No man is an island, Hibari. You should know now - better than anyone - that there're times when you can't depend on yourself alone, when you _have_ to rely on something outside of yourself in order to survive. Like right now! It doesn't mean that you've stopped relying on yourself, has it?"

Almost inconceivably, Hibari's scowl darkened further, and the deadly intent around him thickened to near-suffocating degrees. His smirk was almost malicious when he said, "Then, Yamamoto Takeshi, do you feel _affection_ for the machine that cooks your rice, or makes your coffee?" He snorted softly, dropping back to lean against the pillows and closing his eyes. "You are being ridiculous."

"I..." _Too late._ "I'm not a machine."

Yamamoto squeezed his eyes shut, and turned his face away. _It's not personal. It's not personal._

"I was talking about _people_," he tried to correct himself. "People who are part of your pack, your crowd... People who depend on you as a leader, or a colleague, or..." Yamamoto bit his lip, glowering at a corner. A bitter laugh escaped his lips. "... I'm serious." _It's not ridiculous._

And Yamamoto, in one way or another, was starting to make sense to Hibari. No matter how herbivore-like the terms the other man was using, there was a certain logic to his words that was getting through to Hibari. He was starting to see, if only a little, what Yamamoto was blabbering about.

Yet Hibari was proud and unendingly stubborn - he was right, he had always been right, and the world was wrong, and it was his _duty_ to correct the world's misconceptions of things, whether with sharp words or steel tonfas. Scowling even deeper, he took a deep breath and pushed those betraying words away. He was not wrong, and he would prove that to Yamamoto in the only way that made logical sense to him when he could walk and hold his weapons again.

But for now, all he could do was to grind his teeth together, knuckles as pale as the bed sheets as he looked away. "Get out," he nearly spat out, and exhaled explosively.

And Yamamoto did just that, closing the door behind him without a sound.

_TBC_


	17. Chapter 17

**Windshear** Part [17/?]

**Characters/Pairings:** Tsuna, Reborn, Gokudera, Ryohei. Implied Byakuran/Mukuro and Mukuro-Tsuna, and eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Words:** 4726  
**Summary:** Tsuna has too much on the table to deal with Hibari and Yamamoto, while Gokudera has his own problems, too. Reborn, however... will do what he wants, when he wants, and explain to no one.

In the car, Tsuna idly thumbed the crystal on the back of his left X-Burner glove. Leaning back, he frowned as he thought about the doe-eyed look that had crossed Lady Uni's face when he returned the Mare Sky ring to the Giglionero don and informed her that the Gesso don was in the Vongola's care.

It was her right hand man, Gamma, who asked why Byakuran wasn't dead yet, and Tsuna all but repeated the same things that he had told the Varia. But they were only half-truths. Lies. And yet Lady Uni smiled at him sweetly, understandingly, as though she too shared the weight that he felt upon his shoulders. When she thanked him politely for returning her late mother's gift to her, Tsuna felt a little better, but not much.

Reborn turned his head when he heard his student sigh, snapping the safety of his gun shut with a soft click. He placed the silencer against the mouth of it, screwing it tight before sliding the whole thing back into its shoulder holster.

"Are you regretting it?" He turned his head to look Tsuna in the eye. "Rescuing that Byakuran?"

"I feel as though I should," Tsuna murmured, ducking his head, and looking towards the window. "But I'm not.

"I haven't even helped him," he explained. "Not really." The most they've done was to protect and preserve as many lives as they could in the last ten years. They changed so many things, and Byakuran seemed a little less experienced, a little less well-prepared perhaps, and a whole lot stranger - especially with the way he treated Mukuro. But he was still the Big Bad Wolf.

_Is Byakuran unredeemable?_

Reborn's eyes narrowed on his student. He watched the shifting of Tsuna's hands as his fingers curled into his palm, almost making a fist; watched the lowered eyes and the hunched shoulders. Sighing, he leaned backwards against the leather seats and just gave Tsuna a _look_.

"You want to save him," he stated flatly. It was something that only this silly student would do, really. Tsuna abhorred killing, no matter how many years he had been in the mafia. After all, he still felt guilty - _what an understatement_ - every time he sent out his guardians on missions to 'warn' a few Families or to simply get rid of them, never mind the fact that he only gave those orders to protect the Vongola and keep the peace.

Such a silly, silly student. But he still managed to make things work. Somehow. _Though how long_, Reborn wondered, _would it last?_

"I don't think I'm the right person to do it," Tsuna quietly admitted, thinking of that soft, indulgent smile Mukuro had given him at the end of their last conversation. _If Byakuran could only see that,_ he mused, _would it be a good thing or not?_ Tsuna spread his fingers and forced them to relax, staring at them as he continued, "But I want to give them every opportunity..."

Reborn could only stare at him, uncomprehending for a long, silent moment. He took a breath and slid the gun out of the holster again. He toyed with it in his hands, releasing the cartridge and popping it back in while he resisted not hitting Tsuna immediately.

"You want _Rokudo Mukuro_ to save him," his voice was scathing.

Tsuna winced. "It only sounds bad out loud," he maintained. "But if anyone can do it..." He took a deep breath and slumped back against the plush leather seat. "No... I can't think of anyone else who could, Reborn."

He looked towards his tutor for advice. Or maybe Reborn would smack some sense into him.

But he was looking for it from the wrong person. Reborn slammed the cartridge back in, hard, and clicked the safety back, shifting the gun to point it straight to Tsuna's head. "I'm going to shoot you if you don't answer correctly, silly Tsuna." His smile was nearly malicious, eyes cold. "What will you do if he endangers the _famiglia_ again?"

"Protect it," Tsuna answered, his eyes sharp and serious. There was passion in his voice. He knew that Reborn was angry at him, had been angry at him for the last few days because of how he dealt with Byakuran, but it was out of love and loyalty to the _famiglia_ - they both shared those feelings. "Protect it with my dying will."

***

"The Denaro family are grateful for our 'timely intervention,' Tenth," Gokudera's smirk was small, somewhat exasperated, but satisfied and his hands were relaxed at his sides. "The feud's been taken care of, and an alliance set."

Tsuna nodded, smiling back. Reborn wasn't behind him, which was a strange occurrence in itself given how important this mission had seemed to be, but Gokudera pushed away that thought to be chewed on later on. He focused on his don, noting that there was an edge, a strain to his expression, but Tsuna ducked his head to shuffle the reports on his hands. Looking up again, Tsuna cleared his throat, and his smile was more sincere. "Thank you for your hard work, Gokudera-kun, Yamamoto." His eyes rested just a little longer on Yamamoto, worried.

Gokudera followed that gaze, his lips thinning a little as he reached over and grabbed the tall idiot by the cuffs. Nearly dragging him to the door, he nodded to Tsuna. "You're welcome, Tenth. Pardon us."

It was evidenced in Tsuna's answering nod that he trusted Gokudera to work out what was wrong with Yamamoto.

Yamamoto seemed normal, for the most part. He finished the mission just fine. He'd said goodbye and waved with a typical boyish smile as they left Tsuna's office, but the cheery expression hadn't reached his eyes.

Gokudera had the decency to wait until they were out of the room and back in his own room before he glared at Yamamoto. He strode over to his desk and tore open a packet of pocky, pulling one out by his teeth and chewing vigorously on the dark chocolate biscuit stick. Crossing his arms, he spoke, "Right. Something's bothering you. Now talk."

The idiot gave him a blank stare for a second too long, then, with a soft chuckle, plopped down on the couch. "You know me too well, Gokudera," he sighed. _Not by choice_, the other man's impatient glower seemed to suggest, but Yamamoto knew better too. "I finally told Hibari. That I really like him. And he...

"Haha, we said a lot of things," Yamamoto ducked his head, smiling briefly. "But he told me that... it was a herbivore thing." His shoulders slumped. "And... that he _had thought_ that I was better than that."

Fingers dragged through silver hair, tugging at the strands as Gokudera stared at Yamamoto. Should he just tell the idiot that he should have expected that? Should he comfort him – how could you comfort someone after that anyway? 'You dumbass,' was right on the tip of Gokudera's tongue, but Yamamoto's expression made him hold back for the moment. He knew that already – that much was obvious. Yet...

Gokudera sighed, sticking his hands into his pockets and hunching his shoulders. He took the stick of pocky out of his mouth and pointed at Yamamoto. "You dumb ass," he pronounced. "You know what he's like."

"Ahahaha, you're right." Yamamoto ran a hand through his hair. "I just... really wanted him to know." He blinked several times and turned his eyes towards the ceiling. "He was so angry at himself, for being weak... I wanted him to know that it was okay, that he's not alone and..." He broke off into laughter again. "It's funny, isn't it? Maybe he'd prefer being left alone..."

Gokudera restrained the urge to slap Yamamoto upside the head immediately. He turned the imminent slap into a sweep outwards, frustration written all over his face as he sighed. "Yamamoto, you- You _do_ remember that this is Hibari, right? The Cloud Guardian, Mister I'll-bite-you-to-death-if-you-so-much-as-breathe-loudly-when-I-sleep?" He grabbed Yamamoto by the shoulders and shook him a little. "For god's sake, did falling in love _blind_ you or something?!"

Yamamoto shook his head and closed his eyes briefly before looking back at Gokudera half-pleadingly. "You both make it sound like a horrible thing, having feelings for Hibari.

"I don't understand..."

Closing his eyes and taking a few deep, long breaths, Gokudera dropped his hands back to his sides and stepped away. "Look, Yamamoto. I'm not saying that it's a horrible thing to have feelings for him. I think it's dumb, but you probably can't help it. Love is blind and all that bullshit." He dragged a hand through his hair. "But you're handling it wrongly, damnit. You know how Hibari's like."

'Dumb.' 'Wrong.' Coming from Gokudera, the words struck Yamamoto as expressions of tough love. He flinched, not because of that, but because he really didn't know how to deal with what he felt for Hibari along, especially in light of how the other man responded.

Gokudera slumped against the couch, chewing on his lip for the sake of having something in his mouth. "I'm not surprised you got the reaction you got. He's probably asexual or something."

"Yeah," Yamamoto deadpanned. "Hibari thinks sex is disgusting... And only herbivores do it." That drew a dry smirk upon his face. "No wonder he calls us herbivores."

Gokudera could only stare at him before slapping a hand against his eyes, groaning out loud. He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. "I knew it. I knew he had to be a virgin," he grumbled under his breath. Then, he blinked, realizing something.

"...Wait," he leaned forward. "You brought up sex?"

"Um..." Yamamoto tilted his head. "No? Ahaha, he asked me if that's what I meant though... in terms of liking him."

"And you said yes," came the deadpanned rejoinder.

Yamamoto knew that look: Gokudera's 'why am I'm surrounded by idiots' look. The corners of his lips twitched, and laughter burst forth. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling them get just the slightest bit watery, and tried to stifle it with more laughter. He managed to plunk his forehead over Gokudera's shoulder, still chuckling lightly as he groaned, "I wasn't trying to get into his pants."

"Of course not," Gokudera snorted, crossing his arms and stamping down on the urge to push Yamamoto away immediately. If his best friend needed some comforting, then this was the least he could do, really. "You'd have to be pretty sick in the head to try for sex when he's still in physiotherapy."

He glanced at Yamamoto for a moment before turning his eyes back to the ceiling again, fingers tapping against the wood. "So what are you going to do now?"

Lifting a hand, Yamamoto rubbed his eyes, and sniffed back the tears before they could fall. He wasn't really crying, but he was hurting, and knew that it was nothing compared to what Hibari was going through. Telling Hibari probably just made the other man feel worse.

Yamamoto sighed, and backed away, dry-eyed. "Well," he grinned, "he's still not eating hospital food." A quiet laugh. "I doubt what we said would keep him from what I cook." He stood up.

Gokudera ran a hand through his hair, "Ch'. I don't get even why you like him. And I don't want to get it, either. He's a damn bastard." He looked at Yamamoto, and then lightly punched him on the shoulder. "Why the hell are you crying over this? Stop it, it's pathetic."

"I stopped," Yamamoto chuckled, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I stopped! I'm good now." He blinked a bit, and rubbed his eyes again to be sure. "So, hey," he added, a small boyish grin in accompaniment. "What do you want for dinner?"

Taking another pocky stick out of the pack, Gokudera crunched down hard on it, turning away. "_Chirashi_," he grumbled out. "And make it good too. I deserve it for having to deal with your shit."

Yamamoto nodded, and helpfully offered, "I can deal with yours if you've got some to share." Gokudera had been trying to quit smoking for a while, hadn't he? Yamamoto recalled those mumbles of withdrawal being a 'bitch'. And if that was the case, Gokudera was bound to be hard on himself.

"I don't need your help," Gokudera shot back immediately, rubbing a hand through his hair and thoroughly ruffling it. He looked frustrated, and no little like a ruffled cat with its hackles up. "Ch', I can deal with it myself. You just focus on that... thing," he made some vague hand motions, "you have with Hibari so you won't keep moping around."

"Gokudera," a faint, hopeful light entered Yamamoto's eyes, stopping him from turning towards the door. "do you really think that I have something... _with_ Hibari?"

Gokudera shrugged, leaning back and swinging a leg over an arm of the couch. "I don't know. But if anyone is persistent enough to..." he made a face at the next word, "_woo_ him or something like that, it's you. I don't think you're giving up, right?"

"...Nah," Yamamoto beamed happily for a full second, and then frowned, perplexed. "I don't think he'd take well to being wooed though." He shook his head, "But I'm not giving up. I just haven't figured out what to do about it yet. That doesn't mean I should stop doing what I have been doing, right?" He shrugged, a reassuring smile coming back. "... What _are_ you dealing with lately?"

Another pocky met its violent end in Gokudera's mouth. "You, mostly," he bit out sarcastically. Then he waved a hand in front of him, sharp and dismissive before dropping his head back, staring at the ceiling as he sighed, "Missions. Not smoking. Not having sex. You know. The usual."

"Oh... That-"

"Oi! Octopus head!" _Bam bam bam bam_, came from the door, shaking on its hinges. "Sawada said you came back!"

"Lawn head!" Gokudera yelled from the couch, not even bothering to get up. "It wouldn't kill you to knock like a goddamn normal person! It's not locked!"

That was as good an invitation as any. Ryohei stopped harassing the door and stomped right on in. "Hey, Yamamoto!" He grinned.

"Yo, Sasagawa-sempai," Yamamoto nodded, grinning back.

Ryohei held a white, plastic bag out to Gokudera. "First things first: Sawada asked me to get you these. Here!"

Gokudera squinted slightly, leaning back away from the sheer amount of noise that Ryohei was capable of emitting even when relaxed. He reached out and took the bag, opening it.

His eyes lit up, and he grinned, whipping out one of the nicotine patches from inside and clenching it in his fist. "Thank you, Tenth!"

And while Gokudera promptly tuned them out, going over the instructions with stars in his eyes, Yamamoto looked at Ryohei. "Haha, you bought these yourself, right? We were just talking to Tsuna."

"Yeah," Ryohei nodded. "But don't worry about paying me back or anything, octopus head," he quickly added, patting Gokudera on the shoulder. "It's on me!"

Gokudera stared at him, then turned away, standing up and looking Ryohei in the eyes. "As if I'm going to owe you like that." He strode over to his desk, picking up his wallet and flipping it open, "How much was it, lawn head?"

"It's free," Ryohei maintained, "Call it a present. You're finally taking steps to care for your own body instead of trying to poison it to the extreme!"

Yamamoto laughed.

"Shut up, baseball idiot," Gokudera turned around and bit out. He sighed, and dropped the wallet back onto the table. "Fine, fine, damnit. But I owe you one."

At that, Ryohei's grin seemed to brighten the room by a few hundred watts. "Good," he said. Yamamoto tilted his head, saying nothing as the older man continued, "Then you're coming with me!" He grabbed Gokudera by the arm, swinging it up so that he could cover the man's fist with his own. "We're going to climb the Apennines - 'cause Sawada swore he'd tell my sister if I went off alone."

"Are you fucking crazy?!" Gokudera pulled hard, trying to get out of Ryohei's grasp. "Going hiking in the Apennines at this time! Have you forgotten about the Millefiore? About that bastard Byakuran and what he did to the Tenth, and what he had done to Hibari?" He reached forward and slapped the other man across the temple. "Lawn head!"

Ryohei was learning - he ducked out of the way, and caught his wrist. "That's just it, octopus head! It'll be good training, and we _should_ be training; what better time is there now that the Gesso family's regrouping?

While Yamamoto could wrap his head around that logic, he was surprised, since their Sun guardian usually seemed so oblivious. But the mention of Byakuran, and what he did to Hibari left Yamamoto frowning to himself.

"And who said anything about hiking?" Ryohei blinked, "We're _scaling_ the Corno Grande - with our dying will!"

"Training?!" Gokudera sounded so incredulous that he practically spitting nails. Ryohei did have a point, as much as he hated to admit it even to himself, but it was a _nonsensical_ point, from how he saw it. "If you want to train, I can blow you up right here! I'm not going to some godforsaken _mountain_ to _scale_ it! The Tenth needs us with him right now. Who knows when the hell Byakuran would strike?!"

"Well, we got that Rokudo watching him like a hawk already," Ryohei responded, then seemed to think better of it. "But you're right," he conceded. "Maybe it's not the best time to go too far away for training right now. So let's do it in the training rooms, and scale the mountains _later_!"

Yamamoto chuckled, "We just got back from a mission, Sasagawa-sempai... How about dinner first, and then a good night's rest?"

Gokudera stared at him for a moment, running the words over his head. He took a deep breath and aimed a punch straight for Ryohei's face. "Who wants to do _anything_ with you anywhere, you damn idiot?!"

Ryohei, the only one in the room who didn't catch the innuendo, ducked down and sidestepped the blow. "Oh, you'd rather start with doing it here? I'm all for it, octopussy," he grinned, pulling his fists up and bouncing on the heels of his feet energetically.

"Hey, Yamamoto! Let's have dinner after this!"

"After you do _it_ with Gokudera in this room?" Yamamoto nodded, grinning enthusiastically. "Okay!"

"You! Shut up!" Gokudera hissed at Yamamoto, trying to regain his composure and stop flailing around like the octopus that was his namesake as far as Ryohei was concerned. He also tried his best to ignore that nickname. "Lawn head, stop calling me that, goddamnit! And we're not doing it in my room!"

"Hahaha," Yamamoto lost it again, and waved it off as he turned for the door. "I'll go make _chirashi_, guys. See you downstairs in a bit!"

When he stepped out of the door, he looked back over his shoulder to the two still talking animatedly in the room. "Thank you, Gokudera," he smiled and left.

***

Reborn was on the windowsill somehow. He hadn't made a sound when he entered, but the level of light coming into the room changed, and Hibird plopped down from a branch to sit on his fedora.

Hibari's eyes snapped open immediately, narrowing at the sight of Reborn, and he pushed himself to a sitting position slowly. "Baby."

"Hibari Kyouya," a brief nod of his head, and Reborn got right down to business. "What _have_ you done to Yamamoto Takeshi?"

Hibari leaned backwards, tilting his head to the side. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Reborn sighed internally. He'd thought as much.

"Outside of missions, Yamamoto's become quieter and more distracted," Reborn crossed his legs, a thin smile upon his lips. "This type of behavior... Of late, it's usually related to you."

Hibari shrugged, ignoring the sudden pang of _something_ in his chest. It had been happening a lot lately - perhaps the cure wasn't as potent as they had thought. He placed a hand over it, as if resting. "He told me he 'liked me', and I told him that affection is for herbivores."

"You rejected him," Reborn translated. He nodded to himself, and Hibird flew over to Hibari's side, resting its little feet on the small table beside the bed and staring up at him curiously.

Turning to the bird, Hibari patted it gently on the head with a finger, smoothing down some of the rogue feathers that were standing up. Hibird flapped its wings, bouncing as it chirped. softly, nudging at Hibari's finger with its head.

"Have I?" the Cloud Guardian seemed impassive, yet almost surprised. Unconsciously, his hand rubbed the front of his chest, breath hitching lightly. "All I said was simply the truth."

"That you can't like him in return, because it would be herbivore of you," Reborn stated, and let it sink in. "Or are you saying you do not reject him. That you welcome his interest?"

A flash of confusion registered in Hibari's eyes before he buried it again, looking past Reborn to stare out to the sky. "That affection is only for herbivores, and he should get rid of it," he said flatly.

"And why should it matter to you, whether he keeps it?" Reborn smiled, the front of his fedora covering his eyes. When Yamamoto first showed interest in Hibari, Reborn had watched and waited to see what would come of it. Hibari motivated Yamamoto to become a stronger hitman. That had been a good thing. But too much of a good thing was the exact opposite. If there was no way Hibari was going to feel anything for Yaamoto in return, then Reborn would take it upon himself to help Yamamoto 'get rid of it.'

Hibari snorted, "He is far better than that." He sounded almost disgusted by the thought. "He spent too much time acting like a sheep that he has turned into one. It's unbecoming."

"No," Reborn shook his head. "He's a wolf. And you," he eyed Hibari with laughter in his eyes. "You are a potential mate."

Hibari's eyes widened and he almost instinctively backed away, hands clenching around the bedsheets as he stared at Reborn, rendered entirely speechless and stunned.

"... What?"

"It's actually clever of him, picking you." Reborn continued airily. "Although I doubt that the decision was a deliberate one. You motivate him to become a better hitman," he said approvingly. "Care to suggest a more suitable mate, if you're not interested?"

Hibari crossed his arms, his fingers tightening at the sleeves, digging into his skin and he practically spat the next words out, "You are boring me, baby. What are you here for?"

Reborn looked down briefly, sighing in silence once more. "I'm not here to entertain you. If you don't understand why I'm here... maybe it's best." He leaned back on the windowsill and picked up a cloth wrapped bento before hopping to his feet. "Here," he set the package beside Hibird. "Your _wolf_ won't be coming in today, but he hasn't forgotten about you."

Hibari glanced at it, reaching over to pull open the cloth and lift out the plastic bento box. Familiar smells of home-cooked Japanese food wafted out from it, and he placed it back down on the nightstand, turning to Reborn once more. "Why?" he asked simply.

"Elaborate," Reborn shot back.

Hibari waved a hand towards the bento, "What is the reason for this?"

"I wonder," Reborn said wryly, a smirk tugging at his lips. "A good wolf makes sure his pack is fed."

"Does he feed the rest of you, then?" Hibari cocked his head to the side, voice sardonic. "He's more of your pack than I am."

"Occasionally," Reborn nodded. "But Yamamoto doesn't want to put our cooks out onto the streets. He's trying to provide for you, Hibari."

"...Is that because he _likes_ me?"

"Is it such a confusing concept?" Reborn asked, smirking slightly. "It's simple, really. If you find it difficult, you haven't thought about it long enough," he said knowingly, giving an elegant shrug. Turning his attention to the stack of DVDs on the table, he smiled with the slightest hint of pride. "Nonetheless, Hibari, Yamamoto affection for you has made him stronger, rather than weaker."

Hibari's gaze followed his, looking at the DVDs as well. He let the silence sit between them for some time before speaking again, sounding contemplative, "He was... Yet he still behaves like a herbivore." Shaking his head, he now looked confused and no little irritated. "I don't understand him."

"And you never will if you still insist on pushing anyone who confuses you away," Reborn said, thinking of another one of his idiot students.

"Give me a reason why I should bother, baby," Hibari's eyes narrowed into slit, lips pressed into a thin line.

"Well, I can say that you owe it to him," Reborn mused, a small smirk hidden by the shadows of his fedora. "He helped you overcome your illness and even found the cure for you. Without him, you would be dead. Have you lost even the ability to return the _favour_ now, Hibari?"

Hibari's expression darkened immediately, his hand clenching around the front of his shirt as he hissed out his next words, "I'm not so _weak_, baby, no matter how I might seem now." He squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling slowly and trying to get rid of the tightening fist that seemed to be clenching around his heart.

It hurt.

"So you want me to be like a herbivore to repay him?" he breathed the words out, barely audible. "You're being ridiculous."

Reborn shook his head. "I would say that applies to you. Never in all my years have I come across the claim that affection is only for herbivores. That, in itself, is most ridiculous." He noted the way Hibari's hand was clutching his chest.

"What you do to repay him is your choice, always." Reborn smirked sagely. "But if you do find yourself dizzy, short of breath, or with a tight feeling in your chest because of Yamamoto, you already feel something for him. It doesn't change what you are."

"Baby," Hibari suddenly leaned forward, a hand palm-flat in front of him for balance. He was still trying to regulate his breathing and get rid of the dizziness that plagued him. "What do you mean?"

"It means you've already formed a bond with him," Reborn tapped his chin, as if considering, "and that he affects you, just as you affect him."

"You're saying that I like him," Hibari stated flatly, wide-eyed as he stared at Reborn. "You..." He closed his eyes, his lips curving up into something that almost resembles a smile.

"I am in recovery, baby."

"You're the only one who can determine if you feel different because of him or because of your own health. Have you never felt that way in regards to anyone else?" Reborn turned away, back towards the window.

Someone else... Hibari dropped backwards, breathing shallowly and starting to pant, tired from the conversation alone. There was only one other person that he could think of who made him feel anything like that. "The Bucking Horse," he murmured to himself, eyes closed.

"Hm..." Reborn glanced back, not at all surprised. "Do you still?"

Hibari cracked an eye open, exhaling in an explosive gust. "I don't know," he said. "Baby, how strong can a person become when they 'like' someone else?"

Reborn raised an eyebrow, and his smile widened. It was rare, but he actually chuckled at the question; it was so very Hibari to ask. After a long, silent moment of consideration, he spoke.

"You're looking at a living example. I will not elaborate."

Hibari's eyes flew open, simply staring at the strongest man he had ever known. Then, slowly, almost unconsciously, his lips curled up into a smile, sharp at the edges but still genuine. "I see." He tapped a hand against a knee. "I won't ask."

"Well then," Reborn tipped his hat in farewell. "Enjoy your meal." And left.


	18. Chapter 18

**Windshear   
**

Part 18/?

**Characters/Pairings:** Yamamoto, Hibari, Tsuna, Mukuro, Gokudera, and Byakuran. Byakuran/Mukuro, and eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.**  
Rating: **PG-13**  
Words: **4435**  
Summary:** Maybe Byakuran is up to something; maybe he's not. But more importantly, is Hibari actually starting to understand?

Byakuran liked Mukuro's hands. He liked the long, fine-boned fingers; the pale skin; and the well-manicured nails. It must have taken a lot of work, really, what with the things the Vendicare had done to him. Everything about Mukuro looked so perfect, like he had a charmed life and had never needed to suffer. But here he was, holding the Gesso don by his hands, walking backwards, so that Byakuran could walk forward and further away from those wretched parallel bars.

Mukuro himself was admiring Byakuran's own hands, taking note of the very few calluses that dotted the skin. With as much power and strength this man had, it was almost surprising that his hands were so smooth and clean. Almost, because Mukuro knew that unlike his fellow Guardians, Byakuran's power didn't come from intensive, non-stop training.

No, Byakuran's power, like his own, had another source.

He smiled, soft at the edges as he took another step backwards, slowly guiding the other man, one step at a time. This was another game of theirs; a dance, but this time, _he _led instead of willingly following.

And Byakuran took to the helpless little lamb role surprisingly well. At least when they were alone. After all, a don had to be strong regardless of pain and suffering. Or appear so, at the very least. And yet, what demerits were there to being underestimated by an enemy now that they weren't surrounded by Gesso servants?

However, the short walk truly had Byakuran panting, the burns over his left shoulders and chest and right hip more than stinging when he took too deep a breath. At the beeping sound of a timer, he looked up into the Vongola Mist guardian's eyes.

"Until I reach the bed, Mukuro-kun?" He managed a tired smile.

"As you wish, Byakuran-san," Mukuro murmured, reaching out with their entwined hands to brush the curve of Byakuran's cheek. "Shall we continue, then?"

As if in sympathy, he reached out with his illusions, indigo fire sparking slightly around him as he casted an illusion on Byakuran, relieving him of his exhaustion. It's strange - _really _strange, he reflected, to see Byakuran to be so weakened.

As strange as it was to see Hibari Kyouya weakened, he supposed.

When they reached the bed, Mukuro withdrew his hands slowly, making sure that Byakuran could stand on his own two feet before taking a large bow. His smirk was teasing as he lifted his head, meeting mismatched eyes with violet, "Have you enjoyed your walk around the gardens, my lord?"

_Oh, so he still wants to play. _

"It was lovely..." Byakuran gave a bland, little smirk in response and pushed himself onto the bed. He really had to sit down. "But I'm not your lord, am I, Mukuro-kun," he tilted his head childishly. "You wear that half of the Vongola Mist ring so proudly," he said wistfully.

Mukuro laughed at that, softly and quietly, and it could be genuine if there wasn't the usual slight mockery in it. He straightened, striding over to sit next to Byakuran on the bed, reaching out to run a hand through white hair. His eyes seemed to project regret, in his own way.

"If not in name, then in my heart you are, Byakuran-san."

"Poetry to my ears, Mukuro-kun," he chuckled, and lifted a hand to touch the hand stroking through his hair. "Now, if only such claims of yours can be backed up."

Mukuro reached forward and pressed a finger against Byakuran's lower lip, smile widening. "Now, now, be patient, Byakuran-san. Don't you trust me?"

Byakuran smiled and nuzzled his fingertip with his lips. "Would I want to be alone with you in the same room otherwise?

"What _do_ you have in mind, Mukuro-kun?"

Mukuro laughed again, the sound as genuine as he could make it. He pressed against the lip a little more, leaning it so that his forehead touched Byakuran's.

"Isn't it more fun to be surprised? You just have to wait and see what I have up my sleeves."

"Hm..." Byakuran chuckled, then winced, closing his eyes. "I think I've had enough of surprises to last me for a long while," he sighed. "Don't let me rush you," he said with a smirk.

Slowly, gently, Mukuro let his fingers walk up Byakuran's arms, teasing him with the touch. "The dolls you have made were beautiful, Byakuran-san. How did you manage it in such a short time?"

"Why thank you, Mukuro-kun," Byakuran seemed to preen. "I've actually been collecting for a while..." He moved back, to lean on the pillow and headboard of the bed, and get comfortable. "You see, when I was young, my family would sometimes take me to different mafia theme parks.

"The Arcobaleno dolls that were sold were so very fake. I thought that we could manufacture better ones," be chuckled. "But enough about me. Did you have fun?"

Now, Mukuro wondered, how much was that the truth, and how much was it a lie? For Byakuran to reveal his childhood like that... Mukuro's smile widened. "Well, you have certainly succeeded, Byakuran-san. I really like them."

He leaned backwards on his hands, tilting his head up to look at the ceiling; casual and undisturbed, as always. "Of course I did. Decoding the lullaby was great fun, though..." he tapped on a lip. "What would have happened if I have chosen the wrong Arcobaleno?"

"Let's just say there were different kinds of bullets, some plain, some treated to give different results." Byakuran tilted his head, gazing into Mukuro's eyes as he spoke. "I thought that you might enjoy taking the dolls apart, seeing as it's rather inconvenient to do the same to their real-life counterparts...

"That was the most enjoyable part," Mukuro nodded, drawing a leg up to his chest and dropping his chin on a knee. "Maa, Tsunayoshi-kun would make so much fuss if I even lay a hand on his precious tutor." He sighed theatrically, almost pouting. "He's really no fun sometimes."

Byakuran laughed again at that. His posture was casual, and tone impassive when he continued, "A pity though, what happened with Gloxinia-kun."

Immediately, Mukuro's eyes narrowed slightly. "Mm. It is."

"I'm very sorry, Mukuro-kun." Byakuran reached out then, covering Mukuro's hand lightly, sweet and sincere. "He wasn't supposed to become part of our games.

Gloxinia, apparently, had acted against Byakuran's orders that day. And when Byakuran requested his presence to explain himself, the man never showed up.

"I only hope that the coward will never return," Byakuran said, squeezing Mukuro's hand gently. "There is no place in the Gesso for insubordination."

A quiet nod, "That's all I would have asked for. And I know that you didn't mean to, Byakuran-san," Mukuro's voice carried the same sweetness, the same sincerity. "It's not your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"But your..." He cast his violet eyes down, drawing the words out as though he was still thinking of how to finish the sentence. "Joshima... Ken," Byakuran met Mukuro's eyes once more. "He has made a complete recovery, yes?"

Mukuro nodded immediately, moving closer to Byakuran to drop his head on the other's shoulder, taking a deep breath as if inhaling his scent. "Ken-kun had. I was very worried for him for a long while, but he's alright now." His smile was shaky for a moment before he steeled himself again, straightening back up and giving Byakuran a small nod. "Thank you for your concern."

Byakuran shook his head, and closed his eyes briefly. After a moment, he looked towards the lamp table, and reached for a glass of water. He gripped it perhaps tighter than necessary, but he had no wish to let it slip out of his fingers.

"If you please, Mukuro-kun?" He held the glass towards the other man, with a vulnerable little pout.

Mukuro tutted softly under his breath, lifting the pitcher and pour the water into the glass in Byakuran's hand, careful to regular the flow so the older man could handle the weight. Then, when the cup was three quarters full, he set the pitcher back on the nightstand and leaned forward, brushing a strand of white hair out of violet eyes.

"Are you feeling better now, Byakuran-san?"

"_Much_ better, thanks to you, Mukuro-kun." Byakuran nodded, leaning slightly into his touch. Carefully, he brought the rim of the cup to his lips, taking a small sip before adding. "And the Vongola Tenth. Hmm..."

He looked up, "I have done little more than thank him verbally, haven't I? How remiss of me."

Mukuro's eyes lifted to meet Byakuran's immediately, widening as he cocked his head to the side. "Oh? What do you plan to do, Byakuran-san?"

"Now, now, Mukuro-kun. It wouldn't be proper to spoil a good surprise."

***

Yamamoto opened the door and peered in with a small smile upon his lips. "Hibari..." his smile widened and he moved his feet forward. "Morning." He set a wrapped bento on the table. "Hungry yet?"

"Yamamoto Takeshi," Hibari greeted with a short nod, pausing the video on the screen to look at him. His eyes darted down to the food, and for a moment Reborn's words flashed across his mind before he shook his head. "Not yet."

"Ah..." Yamamoto left the bento alone, and simply sat on the chair by the bed. "I showed this one to Squalo," he nodded towards the television screen with a chuckle. "He had a lot to say about my technique."

Hibari simply glanced over to him, then shrugged. "I agree." He cocked his head slightly to the side, "You still use the blunt side of your sword. Why?"

The Cloud Guardian snorted immediately, turning away to look at the screen again. "If you don't kill them, they will remember and hate you. It breeds more enemies." He slanted his eyes to meet Yamamoto's, "That's just stupid."

"I do kill," answered the Rain guardian, momentarily expressionless. He linked his fingers together, resting his elbows over his knees. "But if I don't have to, I don't want to... And the people who I leave alive," he tilted his head down, "aren't powerful enough to go up against the Vongola."

It was nice to know that Hibari cared about the Vongola though, in his own way.

"So you do recognize that it's stupid," Hibari stated flatly, leaning back more against the pillows he was lying on. "You spend too much effort trying not to kill, yet you are strong enough to avoid being killed." His narrowed eyes were scrutinizing Yamamoto, as if his skin or his face could give Hibari the answers that he needed.

Then he simply smirked, "A wolf in sheep's clothing indeed."

Yamamoto peered up at him again, mirth in his eyes. The corners of his lips quirked up as he replied, "Maybe." He laughed, "But I still eat my vegetables." He leaned back on the seat. "Do wolves do that?"

"Learn the meaning of 'metaphor', Yamamoto Takeshi," Hibari bit out, scowling furiously.

"Or you'll bite me to death?" He laughed again, "I'm just teasing, Hibari. You know what that is, right?"

"Of course I do," Hibari snorted. A moment passed, then he smirked, lifting an eyebrow at Yamamoto. "Why, are you treating _me_ as the idiot now?"

At the mention of the word, Hibari frowned again, lips thinning. After what the baby had told him, he wasn't as adverse to the word as he was before, yet...

"Yamamoto Takeshi," he snapped out, making a sharp, jerky gesture towards the television. "What did you do that for?"

Blinking at the screen, Yamamoto axed the idea that Hibari wanted a recap of their talk about the tapes. Was he asking why he went on missions... no wait, it was Hibari.

"As a guardian, I protect, but," he looked back at Hibari, "you always say you won't allow weaklings by your side, right? And that's where I want to stand... So I had to get stronger."

Hibari's smile grew slowly into a wide smirk. He leaned forward, resting his weight on a hand as his eyes bore into Yamamoto's. "Are you saying that you grew stronger for my sake, Yamamoto Takeshi?" he asked, and his voice was low, inquisitive and just a little deadly.

Yamamoto had to remind himself that Hibari was still recovering, even though - at the moment - his voice was incredibly sexy.

He blinked, grinning back sheepishly. "Ahahaha," he scratched his head. "Yeah." It could go either way, he supposed, but as Ryohei had explained, Hibari was very extreme. _He'll smiles when he bites you to death, but he'll smiles when you manage to make good tea too!_

It was a good thing that Hibari couldn't hear Yamamoto's thoughts, or he wouldn't have reached out and brushed a hand across Yamamoto's short-cropped hair, tilting his head to the side like an inquisitive child. "So this is what you do when you like someone," he mused aloud, the smirk still curving his lips. "Interesting. Is this what you mean by like, then?"

Yamamoto peered up wide-eyed, and resisted leaning into the touch _very strongly_ so as not to inadvertently make Hibari stop and pull his hand back. "I..." He felt a slight flush crawling over his cheeks, "I guess so. That's part of it."

Hibari nodded slowly, removing his hand from Yamamoto's hair and letting it drop back to the bed. His brow furrowed slightly. With a thoughtful look in his eyes, he said, "I understand now." _It makes far more sense than what you said before_ went loudly unsaid.

But Yamamoto just looked curious because he seriously couldn't tell what Hibari was thinking all of a sudden. "So... you're okay with me liking you now?"

Hibari merely shrugged in reply, "I don't mind it, if you're going to get stronger." His eyes sharpened even further, and his smile widened, "Fight me when I'm well again."

It wasn't a request.

With a bright laugh, Yamamoto nodded. "Of course!" After a second, he added, "But you were upset with that before. Why the sudden change of heart?"

"The baby told me something interesting."

"Oh?" Yamamoto leaned forward slightly. "What did the kiddo say?"

Hibari looked at him for a long moment, then shrugged, "That it is possible to grow stronger from 'liking' someone, instead of weaker."

_Wasn't that what I failed to get across last time?_

Yamamoto blinked. Then laughed wryly. "Yeah, that's true... The kiddo told you that? Wow..."

Hibari shrugged, chuckling lowly as if he still couldn't believe the absurdity of it, "He said that he became this strong because of his affection for someone."

"_Oh_!" Yamamoto grinned. "That's awesome! He didn't say 'who' though, did he?" Knowing Reborn, he probably wouldn't have. Yamamoto was surprised the man even shared that with Hibari. If that was the case, Yamamoto thought, Reborn must have a very high opinion of Hibari then, which was strange, given how he kept reminding Yamamoto that the sum of the whole was greater than its parts...

Hibari raised an eyebrow again at the sight of Yamamoto's sheer enthusiasm. What _was_ he being so excited about? He shook his head. "He didn't."

"Haha, now that sounds more like him." Reborn always struck him as a very private control freak; Yamamoto meant that thought in the nicest way possible.

"What are you smiling so widely about, Yamamoto Takeshi?"

"Plenty of things!" Like the kiddo having someone he liked, Hibari _not_ being angry at him for who he himself liked, and the fact that Hibari had a really nice smile on his face when he wasn't thinking about fighting someone for a change.

Not that it would be wise of Yamamoto to point that out. So he shrugged, "You're looking more energetic today, Hibari... Do you think you'd be up for a walk outside?"

Hibari's eyes flickered to the window, looking at the bright blue skies, littered sporadically with fluffy white clouds. It seemed that it would be a beautiful day. He turned back to Yamamoto and shrugged, "Alright."

Pressing a hand against the mattress, he tried to get off the bed by himself. Yamamoto simply stood up and waited for him.

"Let's go," Hibari said, a hand clenched tight as he walked towards the door.

Yamamoto nodded. "Right beside you!"

***

Tsuna looked up from the mountain of paperwork on his table at the knock on the door. He blinked, turning to look at his schedule for the day - no one was supposed to report in for the day... Shrugging to himself, he raised his voice, "Come in."

The door opened, and Gokudera stalked in with a frazzled look on his face that said someone stepped on his tail, repeatedly, and he had yet to exact vengeance upon said guilty party.

And along with him, came an overly strong perfume of flowers.

"Tenth..." Gokudera stopped in front of his desk, seemingly oblivious to the smell.

Blinking hard, Tsuna leaned backwards from the desk immediately, resisting the urge to cough hard or wave a hand in front of him. He shook his head slightly, careful not to take deep breaths, and smiled.

"Gokudera-kun. What happened?" _And why do you smell so badly?_

"Byakuran," he growled beneath his breath, then cleared his throat. "Byakuran send you a truckload of flowers. We had them all checked." Gokudera placed a thick lab report on Tsuna's desk. "Nothing. Just normal, greenhouse grown flowers." He ran a hand through his hair, simmering in his frustration.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Tsuna cocked his head to the side. He stood up slowly, reaching forward to stop Gokudera from mussing up his hair entirely. Breathing shallowly was helping with the smell, which was now _very_ much understandable. "We're allies after all," he smiled. As much as he still suspected Byakuran - he wasn't such a fool not to - he wanted to believe that the Gesso leader meant it when he agreed to the alliance.

"What flowers did he send?"

_Allies?_ Gokudera never bought it, but if Tsuna wanted to, well, he'd already said his piece about this _alliance. _He'd just have to _work_ with Mukuro and stay on the lookout. Dropping his hand, he straightened up a bit.

"Hydrangea and Hibiscus. It came with a card that says he's grateful for you understanding, and that this is his idea of giving you his _sincere, heartfelt thanks_," he spat out. "The Hibiscus are for research, if you're at all interested."

Tsuna's breath caught immediately, fingers forming a lose fist as his brows furrowed. The Hibiscus... that was the name of the disease that Byakuran had given Hibari, wasn't it? Was it a warning? He really doubted that Byakuran meant only to give the Hibiscus to them to research on - after all, from what Tsuna knew of him, that man never seemed to do a thing without a hidden reason or three behind it.

But he merely sighed - he couldn't do anything now; not with only vague doubts and suspicions. "I don't believe that's the only reason why he did it either. But Gokudera-kun, there's no use getting angry like this."

"It's true that the Hydrangea is usually taken to mean grace and sincere thanks, Tenth, but I've found that there's also a bit of a debate about it. Another one of its meanings include endurance and perseverance. Meaning we probably haven't heard the end of him yet, and he's being a boastful bastard about it."

Tsuna shook his head, "It's just like Byakuran-san to do that. I don't doubt that there are many other meanings that we might not know yet." His frown deepened. "Nevertheless, we can't do anything against him unless he makes the first strike against the alliance. And I don't _want_ us to, Gokudera-kun." His eyes were steely as he looked at his right hand man. "Both of our Families will uphold the alliance. Is that understood?"

"...Yes, Tenth." Gokudera nodded, lips thin and eyes downcast. _He'd said his piece before_, he reminded himself. "What do you want us to do with the flowers?"

In a flash, Tsuna relaxed, an easy smile taking over his features again. He squeezed Gokudera's shoulders, "Thank you. Well... I suppose we can lay them out in the gardens. The smell will be less strong, and I think Kyoko-chan will appreciate it when she looks out of her window."

Gokudera grimaced, thinking of those huge, fluttery white petals and the bleeding red centre of those Hibiscus flowers. "You got it, Tenth," he grinned back at Tsuna. "The Hydrangea actually make good wedding anniversary flowers," he added encouragingly.

Tsuna tried not to blush, turning away and tugging at the ends of his hair. "Well, we're not even married yet," and he didn't plan to marry until this whole business with Byakuran was over; until he could be sure that Kyoko would be _safe_. As safe as she could be, in this world. "But I'll keep that in mind."

"Well, if you ever need anything on that sort of thing, my sister will be happy to help," Gokudera suggested, then brightened up. "Hey! Working with the decor should definitely keep her away from the kitchen."

And Tsuna couldn't help but laugh at the hopeful expression on his face. Even though Gokudera and Bianchi had ironed out most of their problems, it seemed that an at least healthy fear of the Poison Scorpion's food would never go away.. "That's a good idea. Would you tell her that, Gokudera-kun?"

In spite of the remnants of the phantom ache in his stomach, Gokudera nodded. "I'll run that by her and Sasagawa-san." There still wasn't a date set for the wedding, but it'd make Tsuna's life easier if his lady love knew that it was still on his mind, Gokudera was sure. He was going to blast those Hibiscus flowers into itty bitty pieces though, just to be safe.

"Alright," Tsuna moved back to behind the desk, sitting back down and leaning back on the desk. He looked at the paperwork, stifling a sigh before picking one up again. The backlash of Hibari's absence and this entire mess was the sheer amount of reports and reshuffling he needed the deal with. But he still managed to give Gokudera a small smile. "Thank you, Gokudera-kun. Would you tell Kyoko-chan that I _will_ be eating dinner with her as well?"

"Sure, Tenth!" Gokudera knew a dismissal when he heard one. Judging from the amount of paperwork on Tsuna's desk, he made a mental note of returning later in the evening, to remind him of his dinner plans. He excused himself with a small smile, and went off.

***

It was dark, but Superbia Squalo had always been easy to find. Yamamoto peered around the bar for the telltale signs - shiny, black leather, long, silver hair and _loudness _if any random stranger was bold enough to find him approachable.

And it wasn't hard to find him at all. Squalo might be holing himself up in the corner of a bar, head in a hand and elbow against the table. The long sword secured in his fake left hand made him conspicuous enough, not to mention his waist-length silver hair that was messily tied up in a ponytail.

He looked bored and more than a little angry about having to wait.

Yamamoto ordered a gin and tonic for the man; he looked like he really needed it. The bartender gave him a half-doubtful, half-fearful look that said he didn't really want to see a brawl start, but he laughed it off, and then headed over to Squalo's table with a can of beer.

"Hey," he plopped down on the opposite seat, and took a drink. "Been a while!"

"Ch'," Squalo's leaned back against his seat, taking the drink and downing it in one shot. "Took you long enough, katana brat."

"Haha, my watch says I'm just on time." Yamamoto grinned impishly. "When did you get here anyway? Tsuna didn't say anything about you or the Varia coming over here."

"Of course he didn't," Squalo snorted, lifting an eyebrow and shrugging. "Boss didn't tell him I'd be over. So," he slammed a hand against the table, leaning in until he and Yamamoto were nearly nose-to-nose. His grin was wide and sharp. "What have you Vongola brats been doing that you haven't told us?"

"Am I still a brat?" Yamamoto laughed, leaning back into the comfort of his seat. "I don't know. We've been doing plenty... Am I suppose to call you guys the Vongola oldies now?"

Squalo growled immediately, standing up and swinging his hand around so that his sword blade was pointed at Yamamoto's throat. Somehow, he managed not to knock his shot glass or Yamamoto's beer can over. "Stop playing around, brat," he spat out, pressing the flat of the metal closer. "Your boss keeps telling us that we're part of the family or some shit like that, but he doesn't tell us something as big as _this_? I call bullshit."

A hush fell over the bar, as if everyone was waiting to see if they could witness a decapitation. Yamamoto just blinked up at Squalo. His hands were free. Besides the handgun in the breast pocket of his blazer, he was weaponless. He knew he was the safest he would ever be with the other swordsman, who had gone to great lengths to grab his attention for a rematch.

A rematch that _still_ had yet to happen.

"You know I can't speak for Tsuna." And telling them that they were respecting Hibari's wishes probably wasn't a good idea, especially since the Cloud guardian wasn't in a condition to give the entire Varia a beat down... "But if there's anything I can tell you, you won't hear it if you take off my head," he said lightly.

Squalo's scowl only deepened further - it was obvious that he was quickly losing patience. But he still lowered the sword, dropping back into his seat and leaning backwards again, eyes narrowed and lips thinned. He hated that Yamamoto never seemed to react to any sort of threats at all, simply shrugging or laughing it off as if he had no fear. However, it was precisely because of this that Squalo wanted a rematch.

If Yamamoto had been a normal person, he wouldn't have defeated Squalo at all.

"Talk," the Varia swordsman barked, fuming. "What the hell happened with that bastard Byakuran?"

"Well, he targeted Hibari rather than Tsuna. None of us were expecting that," Yamamoto began.

Squalo scowled, and his frown didn't disappear even as he listened.

_TBC_


	19. Chapter 19

**Windshear** Part [19/?]

**Authors: **Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
Characters/Pairings:** Squalo, Yamamoto, Gokudera, Ryohei, Kyoko, Tsuna, Reborn. Tsuna/Kyoko, Ryohei/Gokudera, and eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.**  
Rating: **PG-13**  
Words:** 6280**  
Summary:** While Squalo and Yamamoto try to clear the air, Ryohei and Gokudera can't help but clash. Kyoko helps Tsuna deal with the chaos.

When the bar closed, Squalo and Yamamoto walked down the Spanish Steps as they spoke until they reached _La Barcaccia_, the fountain of the shipwrecked boat. Yamamoto sat down on one of the travertine stepping-stones, facing the fountain, and looked from it back to the Varia's Rain.

"Hibari never wanted anyone else involved," he offered, catching Squalo's eyes as he spoke. "We were trying to respect that... But stepped in because we couldn't just watch him sink."

Squalo's eyes simply narrowed, his sword lying flat against his side as he focused on Yamamoto. He barely took note of the beautiful scenery around them - he had never been one to notice such things anyway - scrutinizing the official Rain guardian so that the damn brat couldn't possibly pull the wool on him if he tried.

"Yet you couldn't be bothered to tell us," Squalo stated flatly.

Yamamoto ducked his head initially, then peered up with a rueful smile. "I didn't tell anyone, except the kiddo... But then again, he found out about it beforehand, and didn't think Tsuna needed to know either.

"I... think I could have done more. Should have." Yamamoto sucked in a breath through his teeth, recalling the anger on Dino's face. "...I'm sorry."

"The fuck are _you_ apologizing for," Squalo barked, his sword hand raising threateningly. "It's _your_ boss's responsibility to tell _my_ boss about it." He scowled furiously, "'All of us belong to the Vongola,' he said. Bull-fucking-shit."

"It's not my responsibility, yes, but," Yamamoto felt torn between the urge to defend Tsuna, and the desire to sooth Squalo's feathers rather than ruffle them even more. "Tsuna didn't have to tell Xanxus - or anyone else for that matter."

"Didn't have to," Squalo repeated flatly, taking a step forward. His sword rose a little more. "What do you mean by that, katana brat."

"I mean," momentarily, Yamamoto's eyes narrowed as he caught his reflection on the Sword Emperor's blade. He looked neutral. Not even hostile, and yet something told him that Squalo probably saw that as indifference - maybe even a challenge.

"Squalo," Yamamoto stood up slowly, facing him and looking into his eyes. "There are things that Tsuna won't tell me either, and he's one of my best friends."

"That's a different matter," Squalo said, slowly lowering his sword. But he kept the tip pointed upwards, ready to slice Yamamoto's head off if the other man had spoken one word out if line. "I don't care whatever the hell all of you get up to, or what personal drama you have. Keep us informed of shit like this if your boss is feeling _genuine_ about his words, katana brat."

"I'll tell him that," Yamamoto nodded. "But I wasn't talking about personal drama." He raised a hand, an unspoken request for patience. "I wouldn't expect Tsuna to tell me everything that goes on with his life, much less the Vongola, because he's spent his entire childhood being known as 'no good.' When he doesn't tell us something, it's usually because it might make us feel that way, and it's not something he'd even wish on his worst enemies."

Yamamoto spared a moment to consider the consequences of successfully making _Xanxus_ feel 'no good,' then quickly dropped the thought as non-constructive.

"I'm guessing that's why he didn't tell you, his own _famiglia_," Yamamoto mused. At the back of his mind, he wondered if Tsuna would have told him, had the circumstances been different and he hadn't found out on his own... _It's probably another reason why Tsuna didn't tell Gokudera about the plan to send us all into the future, ten years ago._

"Hey, Squalo," Yamamoto tilted his head slightly, curious. "What would you have done if Tsuna told Xanxus, and Xanxus told you?"

"I would kill that bastard," Squalo answered immediately, no hesitation in his voice. There was something like a bloodthirsty smirk on his lips as he looked at Yamamoto. "Him, and the entirety of the Gesso. Leave absolutely nothing behind so they could never rise up against us and be a threat again."

His sword made a sharp swipe downwards. "That's how the mafia works, katana brat."

Yamamoto blinked, then frowned slightly in disappointment. "Then I'm glad Tsuna didn't tell you," he quietly said, his voice clear in the silence around them.

"Voi!" Squalo barked out, taking a menacing step forward and clenching his fists harder.

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

"If you tried to do that, there'd be no bargaining with them for the cure." At the back of Yamamoto's mind, there was a cold, cruel thought. He wouldn't have cared - it wouldn't have mattered to him at all - if the Varia decimated the Gesso. "Hibari would be dead by now, whether you succeed, and I'd have to avenge you too, if you failed."

"Fail?" came the answer, sharp and quick. "You're delusional, brat. We are the Varia. We won't _ever_ fail." Yamamoto smiled at that, vaguely, but said nothing. "Besides," Squalo leaned in, and his smirk was vicious. "What makes you think I would die before I slit your throat?"

Yamamoto laughed, his voice honest and bright. "That's reassuring then." _Maybe I _am _delusional_, he thought, _trying to find ways to justify not doing more, when I can't change the past... at least not without risking another time paradox._

"Maybe you wouldn't die then." Yamamoto tilted his head. "Maybe that bastard would find a way to control you... or Xanxus, the way he did with that Lady Uni. Then I would _have _to kill you," he answered matter-of-factly.

Squalo's eyes narrowed, his real hand clenching tight as he took another step closer until he was fully invading Yamamoto's personal space. "Do you really think so badly of us now, brat," it wasn't a question. It was a pure threat.

"I think... I'm just being silly," Yamamoto smiled blandly, and continued with a quiet chuckle. "And selfish. I don't want to lose anyone I care about, Squalo, and that includes you."

"Then stop being stupid," Squalo answered immediately, and then scowled. "Why the fuck do you care anyway."

Yamamoto shrugged, his smile turning impish. "Who knows? Because I'm stupid?"

"Voi. Are you taking me seriously at all."

"Haha, I'm serious."

"How stupid are you to call yourself stupid seriously?"

Yamamoto shook his head, and lifted a hand to Squalo's shoulder. "I've never been the brightest bulb of the box, but that's not what I'm talking about. I mean that I care, seriously. Haven't thought much about why though... but I could give you a raincheck on that!

"That's why I called you dumb," Squalo said, turning his head away. His sword hand raised for a moment before he dropped it back down to his side. "Peh."

"Haha, come on," Yamamoto slid his arm around Squalo's shoulder. "Let's head back."

"Stop touching me, katana brat," Squalo pushed away the arm around his shoulders, his scowl deepening. "And who says I'm even going 'back' with you? I'm staying at a hotel."

"But," Yamamoto blinked, looking baffled. "You're Vongola."

"So?" the other man spat back. "Doesn't mean I'm going to cosy up with you brats up at the base."

"And you say Tsuna's the one who doesn't treat you like you're part of the _famiglia_." Yamamoto chuckled, and then sighed. "Well, if you decide to sign out of the hotel early, and go to the base, I'll help with the luggage."

"I won't," Squalo promised as he strode away.

Yamamoto's eyes narrowed then, mischievously. "I have a new video."

Squalo halted. "Voi," he looked over his shoulder with a shark-like grin. "Too obvious, brat." He resumed. "Email it."

A few seconds later, Yamamoto laughed and called out. "Okay! It was nice touching bases with you!"

"_Voi! _Shut up!"

***

Sunlight and silver hair were normal things to see in the morning for Gokudera, but... not when the silver hair belonged to someone else.

"Rise and shine, octopus head!"

Gokudera's first reaction was to freeze mid-motion, a hand still held up in the air to block the sun from his eyes. Except that there was no sun, and there was a very, very loud _annoyance_ right beside him.

And he was also naked.

There was another long moment of silence as Gokudera processed this, coming up with at least fifteen extremely - _argh_ - improbable explanations of why he would be in bed, without clothes, and with Sasagawa Ryohei right beside him. His logic forced him to discard each one, but he still struggled to hang on to it because he really, really didn't want to think about the one realistic possibility-

"Lawn head," he spoke finally, voice tight, hand curling slowly into a fist as his vision started to cloud over with red. "What are you doing in my room?"

"Woah..." Ryohei sat up, completely comfortable in his own skin, and completely oblivious to the killing intent emanating from the other naked man in bed. "You like my room that much?"

Gokudera's mind screeched into a very loud halt. He turned his head slowly, taking in the room around him and it took less than three seconds for him to confirm that yes, he was in Ryohei's room. In Ryohei's _bed_.

Pause. Then he sat up, not daring to turn to look at Ryohei in case he found his naked body at all familiar, and said, "Why... am I in your room, then?"

His hands were shaking just so slightly.

Ryohei scratched his head. His brows creased and he had to think really hard. "'Cause you were suffering from withdrawal for the last few months," he recalled Gokudera telling him. But there was more, if he could just remember... _Oh!_

"And you couldn't stand it anymore!"

"Withdrawal?" Gokudera blinked, raising a hand to rub at his temple. He moved a little, turning more towards Ryohei, denial already on the tip of his tongue when he felt that very, very familiar _twinge_ at the lower half of his body. He blinked.

"Please tell me I wasn't that desperate."

At that half-trembling voice, Ryohei found himself shaking his head and trying to be reassuring. "You weren't," he replied in earnest. "You were extremely eager... And sober?"

Unfortunately, he was just making it worse.

"Eager?" Gokudera choked out, blinking hard to try to get out the horrible image those words conjured. "_Sober_? Lawn head, I don't even remember what happened!"

"Well, you sure acted sober." The Sun guardian slumped back a bit, the edges of his smile starting to wilt. "So... do you want to know what happened, or do you just want to forget about it?"

Gokudera ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it and mussing it even more thoroughly than it already was. He took a deep breath. It wasn't Ryohei's fault, he reminded himself as he turned to meet the older man's eyes. "Okay. Talk."

"Sawada told you to take a break. You remember that part, right?" If he ever stopped to think about it, there was one day in every year that Tsuna could convince Gokudera to take a break. But Ryohei wouldn't have known the significance of that day: a boy's birthday and his mother's deathday, neatly rolled into one.

"You're always so hard working; I was going to see if you'd want to use the opportunity to do some extra training! So I found you. You were in the lounge, at the piano, sort of glaring at the keys." Ryohei paused. "Do you remember any of this?"

"Yeah, yeah," Gokudera scowled, turning away and rubbing at his hair. He scratched his neck, almost too casual as he made a vague motion. "Go on."

"I said 'what's up,' and asked if you wanted to do some training," he said matter-of-factly. "You shook your head, and then looked at me for a while. I didn't know what you were thinking, but then you asked me if I wanted to get naked..."

"I- what?!" Gokudera froze again, lips parted, hand still in his hair as he openly gaped at Ryohei.

"Yeah! I didn't know what to say!" Ryohei told him. "You pointed out that I'm usually running around half-naked anyway, so why not go all the way, right? Which sort of makes sense, but I'm usually training. That's why!"

"Wait, wait," Gokudera held up a hand, barely keeping himself from sputtering. He shook his head violently, feeling a massive migraine approaching even as he took a deep, long breath. "You mean_ I_ propositioned _you_?"

".. Yeah."

Ryohei paused to think about what happened last night, before they actually reached his bed. "But I accepted your offer!"

"My god," Gokudera murmured to himself, sounding horrified at himself. The memories were starting to creep back into his mind. He remembered meeting Ryohei in the lounge; the many, many glasses of beer he had downed; and the countless notes he just couldn't get right...

"I was _that_ desperate?"

After a silent moment, Ryohei reached over, and grasped his shoulders. "Hey," he spoke with his eyes slightly narrowed, and his brows quirked like he wasn't sure if he was being insulted.

"You enjoyed yourself last night."

Except Gokudera was drunk, Ryohei frowned momentarily. "It was nice... Extremely... nice."

_That's not the problem here,_ Gokudera wanted to say, wanted to scream because he still wished to believe that this wasn't true, that he didn't _sleep_ with one Sasagawa Ryohei when he was drunk. It wasn't that Ryohei was disgusting, or that he was unattractive - far from it - it was...

It was the principle of the whole thing.

Gokudera heaved a sigh, "I guess so." He toyed with the bed sheet slightly. "... Thanks."

It wasn't for the sex.

Not that Ryohei knew just what it was for. But to find out that Gokudera had only propositioned him because he was drunk?

Ryohei, luckily, had an incredibly high self-esteem. "So," he said, "you're sober now. Would you still like to get naked with me?"

"_No!_" Gokudera shouted back immediately, flailing an arm out and nearly hitting Ryohei in the face. "What the hell, what makes you think that I would? I mean, it's not that you're _not _hot, but that doesn't mean-" he cut himself off, and smacked his palm against his face.

_Damnit._

Crossing his legs, Ryohei just peered at him patiently. "What _do _you mean?"

"Goddamnit, just take it that I don't want to have sex with you,"_ again_, but he pushed that thought out of his mind immediately. "Just... just that. Just remember that, lawn head." He rubbed at his temples, growling frustratedly at himself.

"And for fuck's sake, go put something on already!"

The Sun guardian stared at the Storm guardian for a longer moment, coming to the conclusion that a sober Gokudera was quite possibly body shy, because... wasn't the man perfectly _happy _with dancing on the table when _extremely_ intoxicated? "Oh! Oh right." That would be a really good indicator to whether he's intoxicated in the future.

On that note, Ryohei moved off the bed, in search for pants. Their clothes were strewn about the floor, closer to the door than to the bed, so he walked over to the closet and pulled on a pair of - what else - boxer shorts. After a moment of idle consideration, he found a tracksuit set as well, and walked back to the bed with it.

"So why were you drinking anyway?" he asked as he handed the other man the clothes.

Gokudera took the clothes and turned away, facing the window - they were four stories off the ground and there were no neighbours - as he dressed. "Work, lack of nicotine, lack of sex," he stated drolly, listing off the reasons like a machine gun. It was easier to calm himself down that way. Then he sighed, shaking his head, "It's none of your business, lawn head. Don't butt your head into it."

That last sentence didn't mean anything to Ryohei. Work, he understood. Nicotine...

"You ran out of patches?"

Sex, after all, seemed to be a sore topic at the moment. Ryohei wondered how very sore Gokudera was actually feeling...

"Nah," Gokudera buttoned up the last button on his shirt, bending down to pick up his jacket and slinging it over his arm. "I thought about it more. Figured that I shouldn't use it if I'm going to quit properly. If I can't do something as simple as going cold turkey, what kind of right-hand man am I?

"I might as well do it right if I'm going to do it at all," he shrugged.

That wasn't right, Ryohei thought, and, "That's not what you told Sawada." How strange, that Gokudera would lie to the man he claimed to be completely faithful to. "No wonder he asked me to look out for you. He said you told him you'd take things step by step."

"I don't want the Tenth to worry about me. It's not worth his attention," Gokudera said curtly, already heading towards the door. "I don't need anyone to 'look out' for me. I'll thank the Tenth for wanting to help me, but it's really not necessary. I can do it alone."

Ryohei closed the door before Gokudera could open it fully.

"If you could have... you wouldn't have ended up drunk and bed with me, right? Come on, octopus head. You can do it alone, but someone's got to pull you back before you go past the limit."

Gokudera scowled, turning slightly so that he was leaning against the door on one shoulder. His hand didn't leave the knob. "This is just once, and it has nothing to do with whether I'm on withdrawal."

Brows creased, Ryohei shook his head after a moment, because he wasn't really sure what Gokudera was going on about anymore. "I'm going to look after you because Sawada asked me to." Simple as that. "You're not doing anything extreme without me around!"

"You're not my babysitter, lawn head!" Gokudera's fuse had been burning for a long time, and he had finally reached his limit. "I don't need someone to look after me, for fuck's sake, so lay off it already."

Ryohei was about to yell back, and tell Gokudera that he was being supremely stupid when there was a knock on the door, and his little sister's voice floated through.

"Nii-san? Gokudera-kun?" Ryohei's anger visibly deflated. "If you're done with your private wrestling match, you must be hungry. Tsu-kun's making sandwiches," she giggled, hopefully at the idea of Tsuna putting something together in the kitchen rather than anything else she might have just heard. "Come downstairs soon."

_Private wresting match._ The words ran through Gokudera's mind, and he endeavoured not to choke. "Al- all right, Sasagawa-san," he managed to call out, fingers twitching slightly. "We'll be down in a minute."

Then he slapped himself mentally. _Shit._

"All right, sis!" Ryohei's grin looked a little strained around the edges. He was genuinely glad that his baby sister always seemed to think he was wrestling - whatever the hell he was actually doing - but sometimes, she worried him.

"Phew," he sighed as her footsteps faded away into silence. He took a deep breath, then pulled Gokudera away from the door, towards the bathroom. "Come on, we're taking a bath first."

"Not with you," Gokudera growled immediately, struggling from within Ryohei's grasp. His anger was returning, and he focused on it - it was much easier to deal with than the humiliation he felt at this whole situation. "I'll take one. Back in my _room_."

"Fine! Your room is on the opposite wing," Ryohei said as he hulled the struggling Storm guardian off his feet, turning just so they wouldn't be banging their limbs against the doorframe or anywhere else. "Here." Ryohei said when he finally put Gokudera down. "Towel's clean. I got extra. I'll go get your clothes!" He stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

And Gokudera was left standing at the doorway of the bathroom, holding a towel and looking completely dumbstruck. "What the hell..." he muttered to himself, staring at the closed door. He took a breath.

"What in fucking _hell_ was that, lawn head?!"

***

Thundering footsteps echoed through the corridors. Yamamoto let his towel hang limp about his shoulders and opened the door of his room, sticking his head out to peer around like a curious bird.

"Oh!" He grinned, "Good morning, Sasagawa-sempai!" From two doors down, it looked like Ryohei was about to break down Gokudera's door.

"Yo, Yamamoto!" Ryohei turned his head and waved vigorously, pausing in trying to break Gokudera's door down by slamming his shoulder against it. "Octopussy locked his door and it's extremely hard to open! Mind giving me a hand?"

Yamamoto blinked. "... Ah, hang on! I have a spare key," he yelled over and went back into his room to find it. _Why would Sasagawa-sempai need to go into Gokudera's room?_ He wondered if it was an emergency, or if Gokudera was just being difficult again- no wait, it was Gokudera's do-not-disturb day yesterday, not today...

"Okay, I got it!"

As he ran over, he asked, "Is he angry at you or something?"

"He just needs some clothes and I offered to bring it to him," Ryohei's smile was bright and nearly blinding as he took the key from Yamamoto, opening the door finally. He barely glanced at small splinters at the hinges caused by repeated, heavy impact against it. Looking around the room, he jogged towards the closet, opening it.

"Whoa! This is an extreme amount of clothes!"

It finally registered in Yamamoto's head. The smell that was clinging to Ryohei wasn't just any old sweaty locker room smell. It was Gokudera.

"Isn't it?" Yamamoto was stunned into laugher. "Say," he scratched his nose sheepishly, "Sasagawa-sempai... Is Gokudera in your room?"

"Huh?" Ryohei turned away from marvelling at Gokudera's wardrobe to face Yamamoto again. "Yeah, he is." Then he paused, doing a visible double-take as he rubbed a hand through his short-cropped hair, looking sheepish for a second. "Ehh, don't tell him I told you that, though. Don't think he wants anyone to know. He looks pretty mad."

"Doesn't he always?" Yamamoto shrugged it off with a smile. "Don't worry, sempai. He's put up with me all these years. I think angry is a default setting he has, first thing in the morning."

"Really?" Ryohei's eyes lit up, and as impossible as it seemed, his smile brightened even further. It could almost be used as a light source. He rubbed his chin in thought. "So he's not angry at me. He's just being octopus head, as usually? Haha! That's an extreme relief!"

"Well, I don't know," Yamamoto moved past him and grabbed some clothes without really looking. Anything red and black and white... and leather would suit Gokudera just fine. It was the accessories that he'd really bitch about. "That depends. What did you do?"

Ryohei took the clothes from him with a grateful smile, nodding as he folded them over his arm. He rubbed the back of his neck, scratching at the tiny hairs at the nape. "... He got drunk and we had sex." He lifted his head, and his smile was now hopeful, "It was really good!"

There was a smile on Yamamoto's face before he heard that reply. After he heard it, he blinked, processing the words. Funny enough, that smile never dampened. "Ohhh," he said slowly. "I see why he's angry now..."

"Why? I really don't get it!"

"He's probably angry at himself. Wouldn't you be angry at yourself for sleeping with someone while_ you're_ drunk, sempai?"

Ryohei blinked, looking at Yamamoto for another moment before he nodded sharply. "Yeah. You're right! Thanks, Yamamoto!" He reached over and punched the other man on the shoulder; just a friendly tap between friends. His grin was freer now, relieved that Gokudera wasn't angry at _him_. "Got to go now before Octopussy gets impatient!"

And he sped out of the door.

Yamamoto closed the closet properly, and walked out with an amused smile on his face. Sure, part of him was worried for his friend, but at the same time, sempai wasn't a creep who'd take advantage of drunken...

_Wow, Gokudera, what a birthday..._

He turned around to lock the door on his way out when he realized that Ryohei just ran off with the key.

***

Kyoko tilted her head slightly as her older brother thundered past, on the floor above the kitchen, for a second time. The floors of the Vongola mansion weren't exactly thin, but Ryohei always had a habit of testing them to their very limits, like he did with the walls and with Gokudera last night. With a light giggle, Kyoko took the potato salad over to the breakfast table, and went back to the counter to start cutting each of Tsuna's sandwiches into four triangle pieces. He was a little busy with the onion rings, and Reborn, with a charming smile on his face, had been quick to admit that the kitchen was simply not his place. Except for the coffee machine.

"_Something _smells good in here," Yamamoto said as he walked in. "Morning, everybody!"

"Good morning," Kyoko smiled. Reborn was busy with his espresso.

"Morning, Yamamoto!" Tsuna turned around, dressed in a simple t-shirt and khakis instead of his usual suits. He felt a little freer like this, less suffocated and heavy and it made his smile even brighter than usual. Lifting the onion rings out of the deep fryer, he dumped them on top of a plate lined with kitchen napkins. "Are nii-san and Gokudera-kun coming down already?"

He reached over and nuzzled Kyoko lightly on the cheek as he stole the plate of sandwiches from her hand, carrying both over to the table.

"Haha, I only saw sempai just now, but I suppose Gokudera's taking a shower or something," Yamamoto said as he went to the fridge. He took out a carton of milk and orange juice, setting on the table as he spoke. "But he's quick with that; he'll come down soon."

Reborn took a sip of the espresso, sitting himself further down the table and crossing his legs, leaning back. "They won't be coming together, I presume." And his eyes had the bright gleam of mischief, a small smirk curving his lips.

Tsuna coughed into his hand, dropping down to sit at the head of the table. "I guess not. What was nii-san doing when you saw him, Yamamoto?"

"Sempai was just about to break Gokudera's door open when I saw him. The hinges are really loose now!" Yamamoto laughed as he poured himself a glass of milk. He sat down by Reborn, no doubt in his mind that Kyoko would be sitting on Tsuna's left today, and Gokudera would already sit on the right.

Wincing, Tsuna shook his head, frowning slightly, "Honestly, I should start docking repair charges out of your budgets. I don't remember when there weren't repairs going in the base, both here and back home." He grumbled, but his tone was mild.

"You should," Reborn helpfully put in. "It might teach them to be more careful, especially Ryohei, Gokudera and even Hibari."

Yamamoto chuckled, and thought of the micro hammers Reborn had once handed him back in high school; he'd never quite believed that those cute, miniature baseballs were actual throwing weapons until Gokudera started throwing them at him, and levelled one of their first training grounds.

"Hibari-san will be discharged from that hospital today, won't he?" Kyoko asked, to which Yamamoto brightly smiled, nodding immediately.

"Yeah, I'm going to bring him back today!"

"Yamamoto," Reborn cut Tsuna off before the latter could even think of opening his mouth. "Bring your _Shigure Kintoki_ with you. Don't let what happened with Squalo happen again."

Tsuna's lips thinned immediately at the mention of the Varia, and particularly with Yamamoto's close brush with death by the hand of the Varia's second-in-command. Reborn only deigned to inform him of what happened in the short time where Kyoko went upstairs, and Tsuna felt he had heard quite enough. But he cleared his expression quickly, eyes darting towards Kyoko before he leaned forward. When he spoke, his voice was soft, earnest and concerned, "I have to agree with that, Yamamoto. Please be careful."

After a moment's silence, Yamamoto nodded with a solemn look in his eyes. "I'll do that." He didn't really think Squalo would kill him. Not because they were both part of the Vongola or anything, but simply because Squalo wasn't the type to kill unless it was in an honourable duel, or an actual assassination mission. But he understood why Tsuna and Reborn didn't want to risk it. Despite their efforts, they still had yet to manage a _decent working relationship_ with the Varia, much less a friendly one.

"I'm sure Hibari's missing his tonfas," he grinned.

Kyoko tilted her head, perhaps a half-nod.

"I'm sure he is," Tsuna ducked his head, laughing softly to himself. If there was anyone who would _acutely_ miss the presence of their weapons more than anything else, it would be Hibari. After all, his weapons were as much a part of him as his limbs.

Yamamoto chuckled and nodded, taking a sip of milk. Kyoko poured some orange juice for Tsuna and herself, sensing that the topic was over.

"Tsu-kun..." She smiles sweetly, offering him the glass.

Tsuna took the glass from her, taking a sip. His smile was warm and loving as he looked at her, resisting the urge to run a hand through her hair. "Thank you, Kyoko-chan."

In stark contrast to the romantic atmosphere, Gokudera entered, dressed in skinny, black velveteen pants and a black t-shirt with leather straps featuring a red and white screen print that illustrated and labeled the muscles and bones on the front and back of the human torso. The clothes were loud and didn't quite match, but he was quiet, feeling like a nervous wreck. He was also on a countdown.

Ryohei had handed him fresh, clean clothes along with Yamamoto's spare key. Yamamoto was an idiot most of the time, but he wasn't completely clueless. Gokudera still wasn't sure how much Kyoko _or Tsuna_ knew either. But it was a given that Reborn would find out. Somehow. If he didn't know _already_.

"Morning, Tenth," he nodded. "...Everyone."

"Good morning, Gokudera-kun," Tsuna called, smiling brightly. His eyes gave almost no hint that he had heard what Ryohei and Gokudera were up to the night before. "I gave the cooks a break today and we made breakfast ourselves. I hope it's all right?"

Reborn merely smirked and took another sip of his coffee.

Kyoko and Yamamoto both smiled and greeted him in kind, but Gokudera brightened up immediately upon the look on Tsuna's face, his own green eyes practically screaming his relief. "Of course, Tenth!" He was on his right in a few quick steps. "Is there still anything I can help out with?" He looked at the table, "Oh, I'll get the plates and utensils."

And he did just that.

Yamamoto pondered his backside for a moment, and wondered how much it would hurt to get Gokudera an extra cushion. His smile was a little too wide when Gokudera came back. "Thanks, Gokudera!"

The Hurricane Bomber shot him a dark, dirty look.

Reborn watched them, blatantly smirking now. This was prime entertainment for him, especially when Gokudera tried to hide a wince as he sat down.

Just then, Ryohei barrelled through the door, "Good morning, Sawada! Master Popo!" He nodded at Reborn. "Yamamoto!" He was dressed in a pair of track pants and nothing else, his hair still damp from the shower and a towel draped across his shoulders. He dropped into his seat beside his sister, diagonal to Gokudera, and his smile turned a million watts brighter as he looked at the other man. His hands slammed down onto the table as he leaned in.

"Yo, Gokudera! Do you want me to get you a cushion?"

Tsuna turned away, coughing into his hand as orange juice went down the wrong pipe.

"No!" If looks could kill, Ryohei and Yamamoto, the latter of whom burst out laughing, would be _so_ dead. It was actually Tsuna who saved their lives, since Gokudera was more concerned with, "Tenth!" He was out of his chair, patting the man's back immediately. "Are you okay?"

Immediately, Tsuna waved a hand, still coughing. He shook his head, smiling a little shakily as he righted himself, "I'm fine, Gokudera-kun, don't worry. Please sit down."

Meanwhile, Ryohei dropped back down on his seat, a grin curving his lips.

Kyoko rubbed her fiancé's back with soft soothing motions and whispers, handed him his glass once more.

"Y-yes, Tenth." Gokudera settled down again, ready to turn his attention back to the grinning bastard he had slept with last night, when he looked down suddenly, and then glowered at the bastard on his right. "You-"

"Ahahah," Yamamoto scratched his head innocently.

Reborn put down his newspapers and took a sandwich from the plate, biting into it. "It's palatable," he pronounced, before going straight back to reading. Still, he kept an ear and half an eye on the scene.

Ducking his head down even though he knew his tutor won't be able to see it, Tsuna's voice was dry, "Thank you, Reborn."

Ryohei took two of the sandwiches at once and popped them into his mouth, chewing vigorously, "They're good, Sawada!"

"Yeah," Yamamoto chimed.

With a brief nauseated look towards Ryohei, Gokudera took a sandwich as well and dug in so that he could add to the praise.

Smiling brightly, Kyoko nodded at Tsuna with a look of absolute approval.

Tsuna smiled back to all of them, tugging at the ends of his hair almost nervously. He should be used to so much positive attention already, yet he still wasn't.

While Gokudera reassured the Tenth that his sandwiches were first class, Yamamoto helped himself to the potato salad. "Hey, kiddo," he peered around the newspapers at Reborn. "More coffee?"

Reborn folded the top of the newspapers, nodding his head, "_Grazie_." And he buried himself back again until only the tip of his fedora could be seen.

It took a moment for Yamamoto to switch languages and respond in Italian. "_Prego_," he grinned, which prompted Gokudera to spin around and correct his pronunciation, but he laughed it off as he stood.

At the other end of the table, Tsuna was eating a spoonful of the salad that Kyoko had made when Kyoko leaned forward to pick up a napkin. Tsuna reached over and tangled a strand of her long hair between his fingers, tugging and lifting it gently so that it wouldn't touch the table.

Kyoko smiled back, and there was a private smile on Yamamoto's face as well when he caught that exchange. It wasn't something he'd likely share with Hibari, but it warmed his heart to see it.

Perhaps Reborn had eyes on his hat, because he lowered his newspapers immediately, lifting an eyebrow at Yamamoto. There was an amused curve to his lips. "What are you smiling about, Yamamoto?"

"Hm?" Yamamoto shrugged, and shook his head. "No reason." As he walked back to the table with a full cup of black coffee, he laughed. "Tsuna and Sasagawa-san make such a cute couple."

A soft snort, and Reborn shrugged, "They have always been like this." Despite his words, his smile was fond; indulgent. His eyes sharpened, "Are you thinking about Hibari?"

Before Yamamoto could even think of an answer, Ryohei cut in, "Oh yea! Hibari is coming back tomorrow, right? That's extremely good!"

"It's _today_, lawn head," Gokudera interrupted. "He practically threatened that Nakamura's ability to have more children so that he'd get out earlier."

Yamamoto laughed, nodding at Gokudera's words. "I..." He looked back at Reborn, sheepishly. "Yeah."

"We were just talking about that," Tsuna nodded. "Yamamoto will picking him up from the hospital later on." And his smile was a little bemused as he continued, "It has been nearly five months since I've seen him in the base. Hibari-san had always been coming and going, but it's still odd to not have him destroy a training room in so long."

"Silly student. If you want a training room destroyed, you can always get Gokudera or Ryohei to do it," Reborn's voice was flat and droll as he folded up the papers and took another sip of the coffee. "Or both."

Gokudera blushed terrifically. "I'm sorry, Tenth!"

"Sorry 'bout that, Sawada!" Ryohei rubbed a hand vigorously through his hair.

"Nii-san's always been so serious with wrestling," Kyoko smiled sweetly, casting a confiding look to Gokudera.

Gokudera sputtered into his coffee.


	20. Chapter 20

**Windshear** Part [20/?]

**Authors: **Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
Characters/Pairings:** Byakuran, Mukuro, Hibari, Yamamoto, Tsuna, Reborn, Gokudera, Ryohei, Gloxinia, Gamma, Genkishi. Implied Byakuran/Mukuro and Mukuro-Tsuna, and eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.**  
Rating: **PG-13**  
Words:** 5848**  
Summary:** Byakuran sends out his wreathes.

_S__nip. Snip._ Byakuran flicked a brown leaf away and carefully clipped off another one before he placed his shears on the table. He seemed dreadfully preoccupied with his Canterbury Bells, turning the little pot this way and that with a critical look in his eyes.

Mukuro dropped down to his knees beside him, peering curiously at the plant. Pressing a finger against a leaf, he tilted his head to the side. "What is this for, Byakuran-san?"

"Mukuro-kun!" Byakuran lifted a hand to Mukuro's, and entwined their fingers as he admonished, "Those leaves are delicate." He tilted his head, smiling. "They're for my house. When I go home."

Eyes darting towards their tangled fingers for a moment, Mukuro smiled soft and sweet, leaning forward a little, "Do you miss home?"

Slowly and with an answering smile, Byakuran shook his head. "I'm quite enjoying this Roman holiday of ours, however different it has become from initial expectations."

"I'm glad," Mukuro said. "I would hate to hear that you're bored even with me here."

Byakuran chuckled. "You have never disappointed me, Mukuro-kun."

Mukuro twirled a strand of white hair with his fingers, "That's good."

Leaning into his touch, Byakuran reached down and brushed a hand through the fluff at the top of Mukuro's hair and whispered. "Does Mukuro-kun have a place called home?"

Mukuro carefully did not widen his eyes, leaning in to the touch and closing them instead. "Not particularly," he shrugged. Then, his lashes fluttered slightly as he turned his head to look at Byakuran, "Is Byakuran-san volunteering?"

"If you would like that. It could be a safe place for you... and for Chrome-chan, Ken-kun and Chikusa-kun... everyone you care for," he said steadily, a quiet seriousness in his violet eyes.

Pressing two fingers against Byakuran's lips, laughing and shaking his head, "Don't promise things that you don't mean. I might just get hopeful~"

Byakuran responded with a kiss upon those fingers. "My home is very empty."

"Is that so?" Mukuro murmured, dropping his head onto a white-clothed shoulder. "Be careful, Byakuran-san. You might just get what you wished for."

"And would it be such a terrible thing?" Byakuran tilted his head slightly as if too make room for him. "I understand that you've never stayed in one place for very long time, not since you were a young child, and even then... But if you are willing..."

For the briefest second, Mukuro froze at the mention of his childhood. But then he laughed it off, "I'll definitely think about it. Thank you." He pushed himself up slightly, turning around and cocking his head to the side like a curious child, "What about your childhood, Byakuran-san?"

"What would you like to know about it, Mukuro-kun?" Byakuran nudged the pot aside, turning to his companion. For all intents and purposes, he seemed to be in a generous mood. With a chuckle, he added, "I've already shared a little of it with you."

Mukuro drew a lip between his teeth, chewing on it contemplatively, "Whatever you want to tell me will be all right." And his smile was small and as sincere as it had always been, between the two of them. After all, whatever Byakuran chose to tell would be telling in itself, wouldn't it?

Byakuran chuckled and twirled a finger around a long dark lock of hair for a moment before he spoke. "My home used to be full of people. My parents. Siblings. Whoever was in close confidences with my father..."

"Your father?" Mukuro let his eyes widen slightly.

"Mmm hmm," a simple nod. Byakuran just smiled as he always did. "I used to hate it when he brought so many people into the house. It would be noisy and I was always expected to be on my best behavior, or stay out of sight.

"Much of the time, I hid in the tree house in the back garden."

They were almost like young sweethearts confiding in each other, Mukuro mused to himself, smiling slightly as he leaned in a little more. "Oh? The tree house with the dolls that I had so much fun with?"

"A replica of it," Byakuran nodded. "There's no tree house in my back garden anymore, just as there are no more people to hide from," he said with a bland smile.

Mukuro chuckled softly at that, and his smile had the slightest hint of wistfulness in it, "Kufufu... Your childhood seems rather fun, doesn't it?"

Byakuran pet Mukuro's hair for a moment, his voice soft and soothing. "And then the mafia took it all away."

"It likes to do that," Mukuro mused, dropping his head back to nuzzle the hand. "It's always so selfish, taking away things that belong to other people and not giving it back." And his smile was wide, eyes squinted shut. "That's why I don't like it."

"Then you understand, don't you?" Byakuran cupped his cheek. "Mukuro-kun?"

Mukuro nodded, his eyes slightly hooded but they were still as honest as they had ever been, with Byakuran. "Yes I do, Byakuran-san."

There still was a smile on Byakuran's face, but there'd never been such a soft, genuine-looking one for as long as they've known each other. Without another word, Byakuran pressed a chaste kiss over Mukuro's lips.

***

The doctors had told him that he should wait another week or so before being discharged, but Hibari ignored them - he could walk without help, and he was sure he could hold his tonfas in his hands and _fight._ There was nothing more he needed, and he was so very tired of the white hospital room and the sickly antiseptic smell.

Brushing the longer strands of his hair out of his eyes, he headed for the door.

Yamamoto was waiting outside, speaking quietly with Nakamura and his crew. He was shaking their hands, thanking them for their help, and promising to stay out of trouble, _haha, _for at least as much as he could. But his words were offset by the shinai at his side. _At least it was just a bamboo sword_, they might have been thinking, but of course, it was the sword Reborn practically ordered him to bring.

When he saw Hibari, he smiled brighter and held a cloth bag to him. "These are yours," he said, "but I think the kiddo did a bit of tinkering with them."

Hibari spared a glance for the doctors, giving them a short nod of acknowledgement.

"Oh?" he took the packet, looking at the tonfas within. He drew them out, weighing them in his hands. The metal seemed lighter than usual, though, when he tapped it with a finger, the sound was the same. "All right." Collapsing them, he pushed the weapons into his sleeves and started to walk out of the door.

He didn't need to look at Yamamoto to know that the other was walking beside him.

But Yamamoto was looking at him, on and off, as they made their way towards the parking lot. In the lift, younger man sighed, smiling as he watched the LED lights countdown to P. "Kusakabe-san's waiting for you back at the Foundation," he smiled wryly, "but Tsuna and the guys want to have dinner with you sometime this week."

Hibari crossed his arms, leaning back slightly against one of the walls of the elevator. He kept his eyes straight in front of him. "I have no wish to mingle with them. Sawada Tsunayoshi should know that already."

"They just want to see with their own eyes that you're all right," Yamamoto answered with a laugh. "Especially Sasagawa-sempai after you actually banned him from visiting you for being too loud."

"I told you: I have no wish to," Hibari stated curtly, turning away and straightening up. The lift jerked a little, a small ding resounding through the box as the door opened. Suddenly, Hibari's eyes narrowed as he took a step forward, hand pressing against the side of the door to prevent it from closing.

Yamamoto blinked, looking from Hibari to the empty parking lot that they were about to step into. Perhaps it was a warrior's instinct; it was too quiet, and there was something Yamamoto couldn't put a finger on, but it was putting Hibari on edge. Without a word, Yamamoto wrapped his fingers around the handle of his katana, and walked past Hibari out of the lift.

Stepping out of the lift at the same time, Hibari's eyes darted around the carpark. A shift of his fingers and the tonfas unfold, sliding out of his sleeves. He grasped them tightly, eyes narrowing into slits. "Illusions don't work with me," he snappd out. "Come out, coward."

_Aah_, Yamamoto sighed to himself, _this is bad. I'm at a disadvantage with illusions. _He frowned slightly, and then spoke out loud. "Hibari?" He tapped the braided hilt of his blade as though he were impatient. "There's no one here."

"He's hiding," Hibari spat out, hands tightening around his tonfas as his eyes scanned the carpark. He took a step forward, the sound of it echoing around the place. Closing his eyes, he focused on the reality he knew was true - on the feel of the concrete floor beneath his feet, his tonfas in his hand, the strands of hair on his neck, and Yamamoto's presence a step behind and beside him.

"Yamamoto Takeshi. Get out of the way."

That was as much warning and information as Yamamoto required. In the second that it would take for a regular person to register where an enemy might be coming from, Yamamoto had spun and drawn his sword, using his body's momentum to make two clean-sweeping slashes behind and beside him. It was the _Coda di Rodine_; the path of his sword was like the tail of a swallow.

He cut air, sliced through a violet blue flame, and came back with blood.

Hibari didn't waste the chance this gave him. Pivoting on his heel, he brought up a tonfa quickly to strike outwards. Light blue flames crackled, resisting against the metal but he dug his heels in and pressed on, pulling the tonfa back to slam it into the jaw of the invisible assailant.

But he wasn't invisible anymore. Hibari could see him - dark purple hair, narrowed eyes, and a pair of glasses that failed to cover an ugly grimace. Growling low and deep, Hibari brought the other tonfa around lightning-quick, aiming the blunt tip of it at Gloxinia's gut.

***

Tsuna would have gladly spent the rest of the day with Kyoko, but there'd been a look on Reborn's face that said something was up. He just hadn't been sure how to tell her so. But in the end, it was Kyoko who said she needed some alone time, with her brother, and ever so politely asked if Gokudera could do the dishes.

The troubling thing was that Gokudera looked at her, and blushed.

He would have gladly spent a little more time musing on that too, but Reborn woke him up from that stupor quickly with a smack on the head with his rolled up newspapers. Tsuna ducked, lifting his eyes to look at Reborn.

"Silly Tsuna," Reborn scolded, eyes narrowed as he strode back to his customary seat in Tsuna's office. "Concentrate on your work. You have a lot to clean up."

Tsuna sank into his plush leather chair and, for a moment, tried to melt into it. "I know, Reborn. I know..."

He eyed his schedule for the day, and reached over to open it up and look at what was in store for the rest of the month.

Dropping down to the couch, Reborn crossed his legs and watched Tsuna from beneath the brim of his fedora. "What has Byakuran done recently?" The question sounded idle; would have been idle if it had been anyone but Reborn who had asked it.

"Gardening," Tsuna answered dryly. He looked up from his schedule and gave Reborn a dubious look. "He sent me flowers. More flowers," Tsuna amended. "He sent Lady Uni flowers. And..." Tsuna cringed at the thought, "the Foundation too. Kusakabe-san doesn't know whether to burn all evidence of them, or test them all for diseases first."

"What do those flowers mean?"

"Violet larkspur for us this time. The color typically refers to first love - the flower in general, fickleness," Tsuna rubbed his temple. He had a pretty good idea that he knew which meaning applied. "White calla lilies for the Giglionero, presented in a wreath." Tsuna rubbed his face. "And if Byakuran doesn't do something first, Hibari is going to destroy our alliance with the Gesso if he finds the Hibiscus, I swear."

"Double meanings as always," Reborn's eyes were narrowed, his mouth pressed into a thin, displeased line. He sat back against the couch, the brim of his hat entirely covering his eyes. "The larkspurs could mean good luck for the alliance, or it could be a warning to us that he is fickle and might betray us. Or it can mean nothing at all - he could always run that defence if we attack him."

He draped an arm over the back of the leather, "White lilies in the shape of a wreath... in the West, white is purity. In the East, white means death." His smile was sardonic as he looked at Tsuna, "Yet the flower itself means 'to be reborn." A soft shake of the head, and he chuckled deep and bitter, "It's a warning to the Giglionero. About us... But... hmm... You remember, don't you? He had called his Guardians 'funeral wreaths' in the other timeline."

He leaned forward, steepling his fingers in front of him, "So, Tsuna, what are you going to do about this?"

Tsuna closed his eyes, searching his intuition for clues. Those flowers... They'd all been sent today, the day of Hibari's return. "The Hibiscus needs to be destroyed. If Kusakabe-san hasn't done it yet, he needs to do it before Hibari-san sets foot in that base, both for Hibari-san's safety and his temper."

He took a deep breath, pushing that aside to think about the other flowers. White lilies for the black lily famiglia. White spell. Black spell. The Gesso and the Giglionero had been the two sides of the Millifore, because of... because of...

"Genkishi," Tsuna's eyes went wide. "The while lilies are not for Lady Uni. They're for Genkishi."

"Genkishi?" Reborn stood up immediately, striding over to slap a palm against the corner of Tsuna's desk. He leaned against it, falsely casual. "I thought Dino and Gamma were keeping an eye on him."

"It's just Gamma right now," Tsuna stated with certainty. "Dino's taking care of his own _famiglia_'s matters. He can't be in two places at once.

"If there's a fight, Gamma still has the Mare Thunder ring. But no billiard cue and... no foxes. But Genkishi still has... everything. His illusions, his four swords, his Mist ring, and," Tsuna squeezed his eyes shut. "One of the Hell rings."

Straightening back up, Reborn headed for the window, pressing a hand against it. "Byakuran is planning something, and Genkishi is definitely part of it. It seems that some things are inevitable." His smirk widened, but it was mirthless. "Are you going to wait for him to make the first move now? Or would you rather declare war and cut our losses?"

"No. No war. No declaring war. No losses." Tsuna knew that he had to gather his resources. He stood up and started to pace around the room, thinking out loud.

"If it's going to start with Genkishi, I need to send someone over to stop him first. Someone I obviously trust, so that she'd understand how serious this could get. Someone like... But Gokudera's can't fight Genkishi in close combat. It takes time for him to switch between using different flames, if it comes to that, and he still hates Gamma..." Tsuna started wringing his hands, and biting his lip.

"Send someone else with him, then," Reborn cut him off, turning around and facing his student. "When have you ever sent your Guardians out on important missions alone, Tsuna?" He cocked an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side, "Get Ryohei to go with him. He's the Sun - he'll break through Genkishi's illusions and let Gokudera have the time to switch between flames and attack. You know very well that his specialty is close combat, and he knows how to deal with swords.

"Send them. If you wait any longer, Byakuran would make the first move."

"But they..." Tsuna flushed faintly, thinking of the sounds he'd heard outside Ryohei's door last night, when he'd walked Kyoko back to her room. Then, he shook his head to clear it out of his head. "They'll work together. They have to."

"Don't let your Guardians' silly little disputes affect your decisions," Reborn reached over and smacked the back of his head casually. "You know what they're like. Both of them understand the situation. They won't let it get in their way."

Tsuna nodded as he turned back to his desk, and called them up. They didn't have to wait long. Ryohei and Gokudera were at the door in less than 5 minutes.

"Come in," Reborn said, walking back towards the couch. But he didn't sit down, merely pressing a hand against the back of it as he watched Ryohei and Gokudera walk in.

"Tenth, Reborn-san," Gokudera's back was straight, tone formal as he gave both of them a nod of acknowledgement. "What have you called me-" his eyes flickered towards Ryohei for the briefest of seconds, "us here for?"

"It could be nothing," Tsuna began, "but I need the two of you to keep an eye on Genkishi in case he tries to get Lady Uni's ring or... does anything that would threaten our alliances." Briefly, he explained the flowers, and the things that he spoke of with Reborn. "I need you to work with the Giglionero; we're not trying to take them over, or give them the impression of that either. If Genkishi doesn't initiate anything, don't engage him.

"Do I make myself clear?"

Before Ryohei could even think of speaking, Gokudera nodded, "Yes, Tenth. Do you want us to make our intents clear to Lady Uni?"

"Lady Uni and Gamma need to know. I don't see him cooperating with you two otherwise, and if you do end up fighting his friend, well..." Tsuna trailed off.

"Sucks to be Gamma, if that's the case," Ryohei looked vaguely sympathetic.

Tsuna nodded, "Yeah. Let's just say that you have confidential business with the two of them, and that you don't need to explain yourselves to anyone else... You'll be sticking close to them indefinitely."

"But Genkishi would be suspicious, wouldn't he?" Gokudera frowned slightly. Then he blinked, and shook his head vigorously, "I'm not questioning you, Tenth! It's just-"

"You're right," Reborn interrupted him, swinging a leg over the back of the couch to half-sit, half-lean on it. "He would be suspcious. But that's the risk we have to take. Either we do this and possibly force him to make a move earlier when he's less prepared, or we behave like fish in a barrel waiting to be shot."

"Exactly," Tsuna said. "Be ready to fight, but cooperate with the Giglionero, and don't hesitate to call for backup at any time."

"All right, Sawada," Ryohei grinned. "Just leave it to us!"

***

Hibari threw himself backwards, away from the wide swipe of Gloxinia's riding crop. He somersaulted in the air, his tonfas flashing silver and bright in the light. Landing back on the ground, he searched for the hidden clasp in the weapons and pressed it.

Long chains dropped down from the weapons, each link spiked with small, needle-like spines. Hibari glanced at it, whispering a soft, "Wao" to himself - so that was what Reborn had modified as well. Then he charged forward towards the other man, spinning the chains in the air like windmills, ready to cut and slice.

Yamamoto gaped in disbelief when Hibari jumped back. They had barely even stepped out of the hospital, and that man was already doing _somersaults_? He couldn't contain his amusement; he chuckled in spite of the situation.

There was a minor wound on his side, that stung a little, but it was going numb quickly, and the adrenaline rush made it easy to ignore.

Ducking out of Hibari's way, he watched for an opening, but it was difficult to follow Gloxinia's movements. Their enemy was using the mare Rain ring, but he was also an illusionist. He could use mist flames, and half the time, Yamamoto found himself following Hibari to find where Gloxinia really stood.

But for Hibari, Gloxinia was entirely visible, riding crop in hand and half doubled over from a strike that had connected. There was a gun in his other hand, but Hibari ignored it, pressing the advantage that he had gain. His breathing was starting to come a little quicker now, his fingers turning cold and numb but he focused on the battle, on _winning_ and killing Gloxinia, and ignored everything else.

The crop smacked against his arm, curving around the muscle. Gloxinia grabbed onto the other end of it and tugged. Blue flames burnt against his skin as he was pulled forward, and his next exhale was dragged out of him in a soft, menacing hiss.

A shot rang out, and for a moment, Yamamoto couldn't breathe. "Hibari!" His sword flickered from katana to shinai and back again, but it was definitely a metal blade that shaved across Gloxinia's shoulder just as the man beat a hasty retreat and jumped back.

Quickly, Yamamoto gave Hibari a once over. Relief flooded his eyes when he found him unharmed. But when he turned towards Gloxinia once again, he barred his teeth and charged at the man. The _samidare _was flawlessly executed, with the blade facing the right way this time, the way that was meant to kill.

***

"Ah~! Mukuro-kun," Byakuran cried in dismay. "Would you look at that?" He had a hand to his chest, clutching the white fabric of the simple t-shirt that he wore, his uniform jacket tied around his waist. They had just returned to his home office when he had let out a gasp.

Now, his violet eyes looked mournful, and his gaze was directed towards a wilted plant on his table.

"My Canterbury Bells..."

Mukuro, standing beside him, turned his eyes to the pot. He stepped forward, reaching out to caress the petals of the wilted dark purple flowers. The shade reminded him, unpleasantly, of Gloxinia's hair, but his smile did not flicker as he looked back to his companion. "I'm very sorry, Byakuran-san. What had happened?"

Byakuran stared at the plant for a very long time, an oddly serious frown on his face. "Too much water," he sighed at last. When he looked at Mukuro again, he smiled stiffly. "Forgive me."

In response, Mukuro only tilted his head, blinking and confused. Inwardly, he wondered about the implications of what Byakuran had just said, and the flower's death itself. He took a step forward, smiling softly, and reached out a hand for Byakuran's face. "What do I have to forgive you for?"

"For being a bad gardener?" Byakuran mirrored Mukuro's sweet, smiling expression with a tilt of his head, and empty eyes. He wrapped his fingers around Mukuro's hand and cradled them against his cheek, closing his eyes for a second. His brows creased.

"Hm..." He blinked after a moment, "Maybe Iris will be able to do something with it." He dropped Mukuro's hand, and moved away to pick up the pot.

"My poor bells," he uttered under his breath.

***

Slowly, like the retreat of mist in the morning after sunrise, the illusion cleared, showing a dead body lying on the ground, splayed on his back with multiple cuts and slashes. Hibari panted harshly, looking through heavy-lidded eyes at the corpse and the spreading blood before he backed away, turning around. Then-

His tonfas slipped out of his fingers as a sudden wave of exhaustion crashed over him. The adrenaline rushed had ended, and he was left sprawled on the ground, one knee bent and pressing hard against the stone floor. There would be a bruise there later from the impact, he noticed, dizzy, fingers clenching around his collar as his newly-recovered lungs gasped for breath again. He had obviously overextended himself, and he was now paying for it.

To the left, Yamamoto sheathed his sword and stumbled slightly. He clutched his side, looking around. Now that the illusions had cleared away completely, he could see that they had wrought quite a bit of damage to the surrounding cars and the parking lot, but something was still wrong. His vision was still fuzzy around the edges, and there was a strong burning sensation inside him that made movement very difficult.

"Hibari?" He turned around, and managed to take two steps towards the other man before he tripped, crumpling to his knees. "Ahaha..." He shook his head, and then had to stop himself because it just made things worse. "Oh boy..."

Hibari's eyes widened as he forcibly shoved back the tiredness and dizziness - he would deal with them later. Moving over to Yamamoto, he grabbed the other man's arm, turning it roughly to expose the tear in the fabric of the jacket... and the wound in the skin that very much resembled needle holes that IVs inflicted. It was much messier, however.

"Yamamoto Takeshi," he commanded, voice soft and raspy as he tried to stand up again on trembling, protesting legs. The world turned black for a moment but he shook the darkness away, clenching his hand around Yamamoto's collar. "Get up."

"Up?" Yamamoto tried to look at the man - the corpse of the man, who had no doubt drugged him. "But whadabout-" he groaned, and squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath, and then another. "Call... Tsuna?" He held onto Hibari and pushed off the ground. "Call the kiddo."

Grabbing onto Yamamoto's jacket, Hibari started to trudge towards the elevator. He regulated his breathing - in, out, in, out, in, out, steady despite the urgent need to pant lurking at the back of his throat. He was nearly dragging Yamamoto, and he could tell that the other man was going to collapse very soon.

"The doctors will," he replied curt and flat, not wasting another breath as he stumbled out of the basement, into the elevator, and smacked the nearest buttons he could reach.

***

The moment Gokudera stepped through the Giglionero base, he knew something was wrong.

He slammed the car door shut, glancing at Ryohei before darting towards the too-silent mansion. There was literally no one around, and that fact was making Gokudera's hackles rise. Clenching his hand slightly, he opened his mouth as if to tell Ryohei something when he heard voices. Familiar voices from the forest.

"Lawn head," he grounded out, starting to stride in that direction. "We have trouble."

Ryohei locked the car and caught up quickly. "Sounds like an extreme fight up ahead," he noted, excitement in his voice. "Come on," he jogged past, only slowing down again to hide behind a thick tree when they got close enough to see the fighters clearly.

Gokudera pressed his shoulder against the tree, eyes narrowing as he looked at the combatants. At a glance, he could recognize Gamma and Genkishi, both of whom looked tensed and bloodied. Genkishi had two swords drawn, and Gamma was holding a heavily bleeding arm close to his body.

It was clear who was losing.

"Ch'," Gokudera muttered to himself, fingering the Vongola ring. He still hadn't forgotten what Gamma had done to him in the other timeline.

Except it was clear to the both of them that Gamma was not their opponent this time. Rather, he looked like he was in need of a rescue. "Back me up, octopussy. You're better at explainin' things, so I've got to get close enough to distract sword brows from blondie."

Gokudera slipped a hand into his pocket, counting the sticks of dynamite he had in there. Hmm, he had three hundred in total - that should be enough. Barely enough, but he had learnt how to ration them a long time ago.

Shaking his head, he looked at Ryohei, "Nah, they like you better." He knew that Gamma had something against him as well. "I'll go in. You just get that Gamma out of the way."

"All right then," Ryohei shrugged. Come to think of it, it'd probably work better that way. Gamma looked like he was at his limit, and it was the Sun guardian who was the best healer. "Go, go, go!"

Gokudera glanced at him, surprised that he had given in so easily. But then he just nodded sharply, turning back to the combatants and running into the fight. Throwing a few smoke bombs into Genkishi's direction, he jerked his head at Ryohei as he readied himself, Storm flames flaring out around him as he ignited his ring. He didn't bother acknowledging Gamma - he knew that he would lose his focus if he did.

Instead his eyes narrowed at the other man, teeth bared, "Genkishi. I'm your opponent."

The Phantom Knight sliced through the smoke, clearing the air around him so that he could see. "The Vongola Storm guardian." He eyed Gokudera like the silver haired man was simply an insignificant bug. "Fighting Mist with dust and smoke? You are a fool."

On the other side of the smoke screen, Gamma couldn't see or hear what was happening. When someone, with no killing intent, suddenly grabbed his good arm, and told him to run, he ran, following blindly until they got out of the affected area.

"V-Vongola..." Disbelief colored his face ashen. "What-?" Soft sun flame enveloped his bleeding, broken arm. The only thing that seemed to be burning away however, was the pain.

"We're here to help ya, all right?" Ryohei smiled winningly. "Let me patch you up, and then we'll beat sword brows to the extreme!"

"Sword brows?" Gamma stared at him incredulously, trying to keep his eyes focused on the cloud of smoke that was hiding Genkishi from his vision, but Ryohei's words and those odd flames were distracting him from it. He had never seen the Sun flames being used this way -the Mare ring was usually used in offensive attacks, not defense, much less healing.

Then Gamma shook his head, focusing his mind on the more important matter here: "What are you doing here, Vongola?"

"Sec'!" Multitasking wasn't a strength of Ryohei's; he was trying to focus his power one the healing first. "We're 'sposed to keep an eye on your Lady Uni's Mist guardian. Got reason to believe that he's secretly in cahoots with the flo- I mean Byakuran."

"Byakuran?" Gamma growled, slamming his uninjured fist against the ground. "Damnit... he must have said something to the Phantom Knight. He-" he jerked his head away, exhaling in a tight gust. "He isn't a traitor. Not like the one in that story you guys told the Princess and I."

Ryohei's brow creased. He wasn't the one who'd said anything like that to the Gesso in the first place. It was Tsuna and either Reborn and Gokudera - or both. Heck, if he even recalled fighting Gamma from that other future that didn't exist anymore... but it was all water under the bridge to Ryohei, and thus promptly forgotten.

"How'd this happen then?" he asked, nodding towards Gamma's arm.

"He stabbed me," Gamma replied flatly, staring off into the distance. He wished the cloud of smoke would just dissipate already. "It was lucky that the Princess decided to leave a day earlier, or else he would have hurt her too. That bastard..."

_Sucks to be Gamma_, Ryohei nodded. "All right" he glanced back at the smoke when the Sun flame finished its job, exclaiming, "Rapid cell regeneration complete!" A pity, he spared a moment to think, that he couldn't have done that for Hibari; rapid regeneration would have helped that Hibiscus disease grow faster than Hibari could heal. Ryohei frowned at the thought, turning back to the present quickly. Then, he looked towards Gamma, even more concerned. "Hey. Something's not right. I'm here with our Storm guardian, so things should be extremely chaotic right now."

It was too quiet.

On the other side, Gokudera hissed as he skittered sideways to avoid a sudden, swift swipe of Genkishi's sword. His shoes scraped against the ground as he balanced himself on the balls of his feet, jumping backwards and throwing a couple of dynamites in Genkishi's direction. _Damnit. _Storm flames were weak against Mist flames - illusions were impossible to degenerate - and he couldn't seem to call for back up. Ryohei was probably barred from the outside as much as he himself was trapped inside some illusion.

At the sudden sight of two swords coming at him, Gokudera doved for the nearest tree.

But one by one, the trees around him started morphing into the ground. Gokudera had to be careful not to run into anything that he couldn't see.

And he was getting irritated by being played around like this. Growling under his breath, he thumbed a stick of dynamite before lighting it and throwing it northwards. "Come out and fight properly, you coward!" he growled.

Outside the mist shield, Gamma's head jerked. "Hey... your Storm Guardian uses dynamite, right?"

"Yeah, what about it?" Following the direction of Gamma's gaze, Ryohei heard a faint sound, like something exploded from... They couldn't be that far apart, could they?

"It came from over there," Gamma pointed to the left and in front, away from the smog filled area of the forest that they had ran from. "I don't think they're even inside that cloud."

"Yeah," Ryohei nodded, and started running in that direction. "And octopus head's range ain't _that_ far," he answered.

Gamma picked himself up, shrugging the previously-injured shoulder. It didn't hurt at all, and he only let himself have another second of surprise before running after Ryohei. "I know the Phantom Knight's illusions. They're almost impossible to break through."

Ryohei ran into the barrier with a loud _whomp_ and stumbled back. "Whoa..." he shook his head. "That's extremely hard for an illusion," he rubbed his head, and wondered if he'd actually walked into a tree.

Smacking his palm to his face, Gamma shook his head slowly. _You don't just run headlong into the unknown like that_, he thought, _especially when you know your opponent is a mist flame user._ But held his tongue because it was probably even more idiotic to offend the man who had the power to heal him - or punch a hole through his chest. "Here," Gamma finally said, "Let me handle this."


	21. Chapter 21

**Windshear** Part [21/?]

**Authors: **Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
Characters/Pairings:** Yamamoto, Hibari, Dino, Tsuna, Reborn, Gokudera, Ryohei, Gamma, Genkishi, Mukuro, Byakuran. Implied Mukuro/Byakuran and Ryohei/Gokudera. Eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.**  
Rating: **PG-13**  
Words:** 4535**  
Summary:** The aftermath of Gloxinia's battle. Meanwhile, Byakuran places his crusader in Mukuro's hands.

H stumbled out of the lift, a hand grabbing on to the doorframe and the other clenched around the back of Yamamoto's jacket. His breathing was short and shallow, and his head was spinning, temples throbbing.

But he didn't let go and he didn't stop, moving forward step by step, fighting the dizziness all the way.

Yamamoto tried his best to keep his eyes open and his feet steady so that he wouldn't weigh Hibari down. He felt disorientated, hot and cold flashes going through him wildly, and all that he could see were odd blurs of colors. Mostly black. Black was comfortable. Black was Hibari's color of choice.

His mind went black for a moment, flooding with thoughts and memories and those horrid little insecurities that made him feel like he was sinking. He groaned, shaking his head, because Hibari was alive, _alive damnit, _and he loved him. _Loves_ him. And it was some drug talking, because he knew at the back of his mind that they were back in the hospital now and Hibari wasn't dying.

"Yamamoto Takeshi," Hibari snapped all of a sudden, shrugging his shoulder hard to jar against Yamamoto. "Don't close your eyes." He shook his own head hard, trying to stop the world from spinning on its axis but that just sent a bright, hard spike of pain into his head. Hissing quietly, he clenched his fist hard, trying to regain full control over his own body.

It was harder than he had first thought.

But there were doctors in front of him now, weaving in and out of his sight. They rushed over, frowning and worried, fluttering around them but not near enough to crowd him - they knew better than that. "He was drugged," Hibari pronounced, jerking his head towards Yamamoto. "Cure him."

Yamamoto's head cleared for a brief second while Hibari shrugged him off to the doctors and nurses. He tried to cooperate, to move, but then he looked at Hibari and there was something other than annoyance on the Cloud guardian's pretty face. Something that made Yamamoto lean back into him, and press his lips to Hibari's forehead and whisper, "Thanks," before turning away.

Hibari bilinked, staring at Yamamoto as the other man was gently ushered away by the staff. What- just _what_-

He still didn't understand why Yamamoto did that, yet at the same time, there was the strangest of feelings at the base of his ribcage, at his stomach. Yamamoto smiled back at him briefly, eyes glassy but warm and reassuring. As he went around a corner, Hibari turned towards one of his other doctors. They should be able to tell him if what he felt was just physical or not.

***

When Tsuna heard Dino's voice on the phone, he had been glad. At least, until the Cavallone don handed the phone over to the Giglionero boss. He wasn't happy that he'd been correct - that Genkishi had chosen to follow Byakuran again and had turned against his own _famiglia_. Lady Uni's Mist Guardian had rebelled against them, trying to convince her to merge with the Gesso once more and when she had refused...

Tsuna shook his head, pressing his lips flat together. It was a good thing that the relationship between the Cavallone and the Giglionero had been strengthened recently - he didn't want to think about what Lady Uni would have to do if she had been stranded.

But there were other pressing matters at hand as well. Gamma had aided Lady Uni's escape by staying behind, but she had received no word of him since finding sanctuary, which was especially distressing, since Ryohei and Gokudera should have reached the old Giglionero summer home by now.

"Hey, Tsuna," Dino asked, jerking him out of his thoughts. "Do you need me to send you backup?"

Tsuna shook his head slowly, though he knew Dino wouldn't be able to see it. "It's all right, Dino-san. I think we can deal with it by ourselves." He knew that for those who did not hold rings and could not use the power of their dying will flames, the fight would be out of their league. Dino's men being at the battleground would simply be cannon fodder at best and hindrances at worst.

"Please keep Lady Uni safe."

"That goes without saying," Dino chuckled uneasily, and Tsuna could just about picture the anxious look on his 'elder brother's face. "Well, at least the Varia should be happy now. And if you can prove that the Gesso is behind this, the Vendicare will side with you, too."

"That would be helpful," Tsuna sighed quietly, slumping back against his leather chair. "He bit his lip slightly. "Thank you, Dino-san. Please don't worry too much. I had hoped that Genkishi wouldn't become a traitor, but at least now... we can resolve this quickly." His eyes steeled. "I won't let anyone else die again."

"You take care now," Dino added. While he hadn't been shot into the future ten years ago, Reborn saw fit to inform him of that epic tale of their deeds in that world. "Let's not have that history of yours repeating itself."

"It won't," Tsuna replied immediately. "I won't disappoint you."

Dino chuckled. "Of course you won't." He took a deep breath. "Tsuna... How's Kyouya?"

"He is going to be discharged from the hospital today," Tsuna said, smiling. No matter the situation or whatever had changed, it seemed that Dino still cared about his former student. "Yamamoto is, ah, accompanying him."

"I see," came a quiet reply. "Then I'm glad." After a moment's silence, Dino spoke again. "Well, let me know if there's anything else I can do. I don't want to get in the way of anything, especially while you're dealing with Byakuran, but I do want to see you guys again."

"I'll definitely contact you," Tsuna promised. Then, his cell phone started to ring. "Dino-san, I have another call coming in."

"All right, Tsuna. See you later."

"Yeah. Bye." Tsuna looked at his cell phone as he placed the office phone's receiver back on its hook. "Nakamura-san?" His eyes widened in dread.

***

Gokudera was doubled over, panting harshly as he tossed his head, flicking sweat and blood out of his eyes. His gaze darted around him, taking in the trees that surrounded him, trying desperately to at least _hear _something even if he couldn't_ see_ Genkishi coming. His fingers tightened around the stick of dynamite in his hand.

All of the sudden he jumped to the side, rolling on the grass and dirtying his clothes and hair even further. But he barely noticed it, lighting the dynamite immediately and tossing it in front of him, towards where those flashes of black and silver - Genkishi's swords - had came from. The explosion came, splitting a few trees into nothing but splinters. Burning leaves and branches at his peripheral alerted him to where they actually were. Ashes fell from above onto Gokudera's hair.

But the illusion remained.

Gokudera grit his teeth and spat the dying cigarette out of his mouth. He lit another quickly, on reflex, and counted the dynamites he had left. _Still good._ But Genkishi was either taking his time, playing with him, or just not interested in fighting him properly, because it was taking too long for his liking.

Outside of the illusion, Gamma shut his eyes as he gathered his Thunder flames in his hand, letting them wrap together into a ball of electricity. His eyes flickered towards Ryohei, making sure that the man beside him was out of the danger zone before he took a step backwards, pushed off, and slammed his hand against the solid _air_ in front of him.

The earth shook beneath them, and Gokudera found himself shoved back by a blast of hot air that lifted him off his feet, smacking his back against the bark of a tree. "Fuck!"

Gamma let his hand dropped back to his side, breathing a little harder as the mist cleared around them. His eyes narrowed, darting around the clearing as his Thunder flames started to gather in his hands again. Genkishi was around - he knew it. After so many years of fighting beside that man and sparring with him, Gamma could tell his presence, and it was near them, hanging around at the fringes of the forest.

The Vongola Storm guardian crumpled to the ground with a harsh gasp. He coughed, and glared at his opponent. No wait, it was... _Goddamnit, Gamma_. He shoved the memories away, forcibly reminding himself that Gamma was supposed to be on his side this time.

"Gokudera!" Ryohei ran over, and knelt beside him, clamping a hand over his shoulder. "How hurt are you?"

Gokudera shrugged off the hand, scowling deeply as he pushed himself back on his feet, glaring at Ryohei because it would be too suspicious to even look at Gamma wrongly - in this 'world' , he had no reason for it. "I'm fine," he bit out.

Gamma wasn't even looking them. A side glance was enough. If that Storm guardian was all that hurt, his partner was going to heal him, which meant someone had to guard them against any possible attack.

Breathing out a low breath, Gokudera shook his head as he looked around him. There was no sign of Genkishi now that the illusions had dissipated, but Gokudera would never believe that the man had simply left them alone. After all, he was after the rings, wasn't he? That was what Byakuran had always been after.

"Where the fuck is he," he growled.

He received no answer. Beside him, Ryohei took a couple of steps aside, looking around. Although the mist had parted for Gamma when he broke through the barrier, it was only for a moment. That Genkishi probably remoulded his illusions. They were in a normal forest now, it seemed, but Ryohei knew that he couldn't trust his own senses. To know his own strengths, a man must first recognize his weaknesses; Ryohei was aware that he could be quite gullible.

He closed his eyes, and focused on his environment. Not what an illusionist should want him to feel, but what had to be real: That tree Gokudera had slammed into, the wind that flowed around it, Gokudera himself...

"Hey," Gokudera said, all of the sudden. His hand clenched, the other slipping into his pocket. "Lawnhead. When did the Tenth forget to bring his coat?"

Ryohei grinned despite trying to feel for things that shouldn't belong, "Date with sis. Last Valentine's," he answered. His eyes snapped open a second later, and he drew Sun flame into his hands. "There!" He charged at Gamma.

The Giglionero hitman gaped, but promptly leaped aside just as Ryohei's fire blocked off deadly steel. The sword was real then. The man wielding it however... whether he was the genuine article was another question.

Gokudera growled under his breath at the sight of Genkishi. A sleight of hand sent a whole bunch of dynamites flying from his hands towards the direction of the sword, already lit. The air trembled for a moment before an explosion rocked the ground, sending dust upwards to cover their vision.

But Gokudera was already used to this. He darted forward immediately, a gun in his left hand and more dynamite on his right.

Ryohei, by now, was used to Gokudera's fighting style. He ducked away at the whispers of lit fuses, and killed his flames so they would not set off the explosives too soon.

Gamma cursed beneath his breath. Of course Genkishi would target him, he thought. Of course! The man knew how _he_ fought, the two of them having worked together for so long.

On Gokudera's side, he had already expected that Genkishi would attack Gamma - after all, it was the Mare ring that took priority right now. He spun around, moving over to the Giglionero's Thunder Guardian's side and threw forward a smoke bomb. Then, he pulled Gamma _hard_ out of the way before aiming and shooting at the place that man used to be.

Hidden within his own Mist flames, a single bullet skid past metal and grazed Genkishi's cheek. For a fraction of a second, his eyes widened and he realized that, somehow, the Vongola knew what he was after, what Byakuran sought.

Gamma had that hurt, angry look of betrayal on his face that said he was beginning to see through the denial. "Why," he whispered, thinking of what the Vongola had told him and Lady Uni before. "What can he offer you that our own don can't?!"

"It's for the sake of the _famiglia_," Genkishi said monotonously. His eyes flickered with some identifiable, muted emotion for a moment before it was quickly masked. "Give up, Gamma. I don't want to fight you. Work for Byakuran-sama for the sake of Uni-sama."

"Bullshit," Gokudera spat out immediately, aiming his gun straight at Genkishi's head. "Stop preaching, fucker. You're just saying a bunch of crap."

Genkishi only responded with a look of contempt towards Gokudera. Nothing more. Seeing that, Ryohei held his ground. Genkishi really didn't want to fight, it seemed, and he didn't want to interfere too much either. This was still primarily Gamma's fight, after all.

And Gamma was scowling. "That's not answering the question!" he pointedly replied. "What did he offer you?"

At that, Genkishi only shook his head, brandishing one of his sword at the Vongola Guardians. "This doesn't concern you," he stated, then turned back to Gamma, his sword arm not lowering. "He offered me nothing but what is good for the Giglionero, Gamma. Don't be stubborn."

"You're wrong." Gamma shook his head, thunder flame crackling around him. "There is _nothing _that we need from the Gesso."

"Because the_ Vongola_ will provide?" Genkishi calmly asked. "Or in this case, the Cavallone, one of their allies."

"We don't give out free gifts like Santa," Gokudera clicked the safety back, walking forward. "Why the fuck would you ever want your _famiglia_ to depend on that Byakuran? Whatever you need, do it yourself."

"They don't give out free gifts, Gamma," Genkishi mockingly echoed. His eyes narrowed to two small pinpricks of fool's gold. "They have the rings. They have a good majority of the Arcobaleno on their side. What could they possibly want from the Giglionero?"

Gamma stiffened at the words.

"Don't listen to him, blondie!" Ryohei shouted, stepping in before Gokudera could say a word. "That flower bastard- Byakuran isn't doing this for free either." His fists clenched at his side as he caught Gamma's gaze, holding it. "Your boss trusts us, Gamma. She doesn't trust Byakuran at all."

Gokudera nodded gravely. "The Tenth isn't after ultimate power or world domination, idiot. He fights for peace!"

"The Vongola Tenth wants peace?" Genkishi scoffed. "What makes you think Byakuran doesn't? But unlike your Tenth, he is willing to obtain it by any means necessary."

"_Byakuran _wants peace? Yea, sure. By dominating the mafia, or even taking over the world." Gokudera rolled his eyes. "How is that any fucking peace at all?"

"Hypocritical fool," Genkishi answered. "Don't you see, Gamma?"

Gamma nearly froze again because the question sounded like it had been whispered directly into his ear, but self-preservation made him jerk aside, blasting the man who was suddenly beside him with electric volts while the one who stood talking to them before... faded to nothing with an ominous, "I'll make you see."

***

Another flower was starting to wilt.

Mukuro's eyes narrowed, turning his head slightly to look at the row of plants on Byakuran's desk from his peripheral vision. His hand toyed with the Rook piece, lips drawn between his teeth in the classic show of thinking. But he already knew his next move; he was simply stalling.

Byakuran seemed distracted lately, more so than normal, and while it could be chalked up to his recent recovery and the internal problems within the Gesso, Mukuro didn't think it was so simple.

But the white-haired man's biggest concerns at the moment seemed to be flowers. He spoke in flower language. He kept glancing towards them when he thought Mukuro wasn't looking, and sometimes, he even explained their meanings to him.

The man was frowning, attention affixed upon his Black Crusader Calla, or so he had called it, a poisonous plant that required careful handling.

"Byakuran-san?" Mukuro placed the rook on a black square, smiling as he leaned in. His hand pressed flat against the tabletop. "Are you all right? You seem to be distracted."

Violet eyes flickered back towards him. Byakuran had a sterile smile on his face, clean and unreadable like some of the other dolls the man had shown his playmate.

"I'm sorry, Mukuro-kun." Briefly, he covered Mukuro's hand, as though he truly meant his apology. And then he stood up, walking from the chess table to his work desk, lifting pot in question and cradling it in his hands like he was studying a crystal ball.

Mukuro's eyes narrowed as he watched Byakuran, but his smile remained the same as always. Slowly, he shook his head. "There's nothing you have to apologize for. Are you all right?"

Byakuran tilted his head, an indication that he had heard the question. But for a long time, he remained silent. "I can't tell what's going on with my crusader," he finally said by way of an answer. "Mukuro-kun, can you?"

He held the pot out to his playmate, but the expression on his face was genuinely concerned.

Mukuro took the pot, weighing it in his hands as he hummed tunelessly under his breath, He turned it around, looking at the dark flowers that stood up high and proud amongst the dark green leaves. He blinked at the other man's words, tilting his head to the side. He looked almost like an inquisitive child.

"Your crusader?"

The Gesso don smiled vaguely, eyes lingering on the plant for a moment longer. "My dark knight," he nodded. "Petals bruised, stem bent out of shape...

"I can't tell if it's too much sun or-" He curled his fingers around Mukuro's, holding the pot. "Let's give it some shade."

Smiling slightly at the hands around his, Mukuro slowly pulled the pot towards him; pulled Byakuran towards him. "I'm sure that it will be all right under your meticulous care, Byakuran-san."

Inside his mind, the gears were shifting, but he didn't have enough information to piece everything together to make a full picture. The plants were significant, he knew, but to what exactly?

Byakuran sighed lightly. _That's just it_, he mouthed beneath his breath. But he smiled quickly. "Thank you, Mukuro-kun." Slowly, he moved the pot out of Mukuro's hands and glanced around the room. His gaze settled upon the bookshelves, and he started walking over when his private line rang.

Two steps backwards and Byakuran turned back to his desk, answering the phone. "Byakuran speaking," he injected a joyous tone, and then hissed, "Iris." As he listened, his fingers clenched around the receiver and the pot, knuckles turning white.

"Ah... well then," he shrugged, forcibly relaxing his shoulders despite how stretching still agitated his burn wounds. "I suppose it can't be helped. Thank you... for the effort, my dear."

After he ended the conversation, he glanced up at Mukuro with a sharp, bright-eyed smile. "Good news, Mukuro-kun.

"Gloxinia-kun. He's dead."

Mukuro's eyes widened. At his side, his fingers curled inwards, almost forming into a fist before he forcibly stopped himself. The Gloxinia - his _Canterbury Bells_ - on the window and now... he took a step closer, wrapping his arms around Byakuran's shoulders, stroking the wounds through the cloth gently.

"How is that good news?" he shook his head, frowning. Cupping the older man's cheek with a hand, he whispered, tone low and mournful, "I'm very sorry about that, Byakuran-san. I know you cared for him very much."

"Oh, no... You see, if I cared, I wouldn't have allowed him to die," Byakuran reasoned, his voice exceedingly calm. "I thought that you'd be happy though. He never liked you... You never liked him."

Mukuro shook his head. "I didn't, but it doesn't matter now... he was your man, wasn't he?" He tilted his head to the side, concern shining both insincere and genuine in his eyes. "Are you upset?"

Byakuran let his eyes close briefly, simply letting the other man hold him. Mukuro knew better than to be anything but gentle - unless he was feeling deliberately malicious, because Byakuran was still recovering, sometimes numbed with medication and sometimes feeling like he'd just been burnt again.

"I'm _very_ upset, Mukuro-kun," he pronounced.

"Is there anything I can do then?" Mukuro asked, eyes downcast and as sincere as he could ever be. "I don't want you to be upset..."

"Anything..." Byakuran smiled thinly. Placing the Black Crusader on the shelf, he chuckled. "You're too good to me.

"But I can't think of anything at the moment, Mukuro-kun. If there's anything you would rather be doing, _do _share."

Mukuro cocked his head to the side, "Rather be doing? What would I want to do except to aid you here, Byakuran-san?"

Byakuran stared at him. Just stared at him, then nodded once, and slowly wet his lips before speaking. "Help me pick out a funeral wreath?

Now, that phrase was a familiar one; and dangerous as well. In the timeline that was not, those who were part of Byakuran's guardians were called 'funeral wreathes', presumably as they were the ones who killed most of the opponents.

But he half-feigned ignorance still, ducking his head down, lips curving up into a sheepish smile. "I'm afraid I don't know very much about plants."

"It's okay, Mukuro-kun. I've already narrowed it down to a few choices." He opened a drawer and pulled out a thick folder. Inside, there were several files - not of flowers exactly, but, as Mukuro suspected, of personnel.

Mukuro looked at him for a long moment, taking in the unusually unsmiling expression, the tense fingers around the file, and the tightly-pressed lights. He nodded slowly. "I understand. I will take my leave first then, Byakuran." He straightened, heading for the door.

"Where are you going, Mukuro-kun?" Byakuran blinked innocently, as he sat down behind his desk, just about ready to go through the reports he'd taken out.

Mukuro stopped in his tracks, turning around to look at Byakuran. He smiled automatically, "Do you prefer me to stay?"

Byakuran nodded, smiling again, and Mukuro wasn't sure if he should be more relieved or disturbed by the familiar sight. "I have some files to go over, but... I just thought of something you can do for me... which would make me feel much better." He nodded towards his black lily.

"Keep my crusader alive. Please. It feeds on dying will energy."

"All right," Mukuro nodded, curling his fingers around the pot and lifting it up. He looked at it scrutinizingly for a moment before he turned to Byakuran, smiling brightly with his eyes closed. "I'll do that."

***

Hibird's rendition of the Namimori high school anthem drifted into the hospital room from an open window, drawing a nostalgic smile to Yamamoto's face. Slowly, he opened his eyes and tilted his head towards the source. The little yellow bird was perched on Hibari's finger and Hibari's eyes were closed. Maybe he was enjoying the breeze.

Then, Hibari's eyes snapped open immediately, as if reacting to the sound of Yamamoto's hair against the pillow. Extending his arm, he extended his arm and let Hibird, still trilling the anthem, take off to the trees outside. His eyes did not leaving Yamamoto's.

"You'll be discharged the day after tomorrow," he pronounced, shrugging slightly.

"Why?" Yamamoto asked quietly, and then cleared his dry throat. As he tried to sit up, stray memories seemed to slot themselves back into place. Taking Hibari out of the hospital. Fighting, and then killing Gloxinia. Kissing Hibari in the corridor...

"Haha," he gave a breathless, disbelieving laugh, leaning back against the headboard. "What hit me?"

Hibari's smirk was a little bitter but mostly bloodthirsty, rage hidden at the edges. "The Death Heater." It was terribly ironic, really, that the poison used on all of them in their youths cropped up again. Hibari pressed his lips together, leaning backwards against the windowsill. His eyes were narrowed as he watched Yamamoto, waiting for his reaction.

"The... That Cervello poison?" Yamamoto blinked. "But it barely felt like... Oh yeah, my insides were _boiling_." And at present, come to think of it, he wasn't hurting much, but he should have been. He rubbed his side absently, over the hospital gown, and felt bandages. "I'm on morphine or something?"

Hibari nodded. "Don't touch them. You will open the wound."

"You're not wounded... Are you?"

A moment's silence, and Yamamoto changed the subject, "And it's over?"

Hibari strugged.

"...Tsuna and the kiddo?"

"The doctors have informed him," Hibari told him crisply, opening his eyes to look into Yamamoto's own. Then he uncrossed his arms, letting them fall to his side, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Now rest."

Slowly, Yamamoto shifted himself back down with a quiet, "Okay." He closed his eyes, as if to sleep, but looked at the ceiling after a moment, and then back at Hibari. "Hey, Hibari... Do you sing?"

Hibari raised an eyebrow at him. Then, his gaze flickered towards the bag of morphine hanging above Yamamoto's head, and then he shrugged. "No."

"Oh..." Yamamoto rubbed his eyes, yawning briefly. "Then, how did you teach Hibird the Namimori anthem?"

"My ringtone," was the flat, rather bored reply. Hibari hid a yawn behind his hand - it was contagious, and he was rather tired was well. After all, he was still not fully recovered, no matter how much he wanted himself to be.

Yamamoto laughed lightly, thinking of Hibari presenting Hibird with his cell phone, and even though it was probably more likely that Hibird simply picked up the song on its own, the idea of it struck him as adorable. "That's so cute."

"Cute?" Hibari's other eyebrow rose. "What do you mean, Yamamoto Takeshi."

The question-statement garnered a soft smile and a shrug. "You're very good with animals, aren't you?"

"They are less annoying than humans." His eyes slanted towards Yamamoto, narrowing slightly. He didn't know why he was still staying here, answering inane questions. "Go to sleep already."

"But how long _have_ I been sleeping?" Yamamoto asked, despite the heavy feeling over his eyelids. Momentarily, brown eyes widened. "How long have you been waiting?"

"Half a day," Hibari answered, droll. He pushed himself away from the wall, heading for the door. "Don't assume that I have been waiting for you."

"Haha, you're here because you want to be here," Yamamoto managed a nod and smiled brightly. "I'm glad." Then, he sighed, and uttered a soft, "Thanks."

Hibari placed a hand on the doorframe, turning back to look at Yamamoto for a long, silent moment. Then, he nodded shortly and left the room.

Yamamoto closed his eyes and allowed the Namimori anthem to take him back in time.


	22. Chapter 22

**Windshear** Part [22/?]

**Authors: **Kagaya Chou and The Dream Whisperer**  
****Characters/Pairings:** Gokudera, Mukuro, Ryohei, Gamma, Genkishi, Byakuran, Yamamoto, Hibari, Tsuna, Reborn. Implied Mukuro/Byakuran and Ryohei/Gokudera. Eventual Yamamoto/Hibari.**  
Rating: **PG-13**  
Words:** 4706**  
Summary:** As the fight against Genkishi draws out, bridges are burnt. Tsuna needs to gather his friends to face his enemies, but can he tell who's who?

With the most disconcerting sense of vertigo and déjà vu, Gokudera felt the ground crumble beneath his feet. Gravity went haywire as a non-lethal wave of Mist flame swept through the area. Gokudera's stomach did a flip-flop but he grit his teeth, green eyes narrowing.

"Mukuro," he hissed out, hands clenching tight at his sides.

Ryohei stumbled slightly, keeping his balance even as the ground disappeared from under him. He deliberately chose not to look down, taking another step forward and raising his fists. Sun flames flickered in his hands as he suddenly dove downwards, shoving against the 'empty air' and hitting something hard; something solid.

He grinned.

The flames _burnt_ bright and heavy around them both, ripping away the illusions as easily as a sword's blade through paper. The Vongola had been far too used to Mukuro's illusions to fall into the same thing over and over again. Straightening as the ground appeared beneath him, indigo flames dying away in his peripheral vision, Ryohei moved into his usual position.

"That wasn't very extreme at all, Mukuro," he said, almost amused.

"Mukuro?" Gamma said, struck dumb for a moment. His eyes flickered between the Vongola guardians and Genkishi, suddenly unsure. "Wait, your Mist Guardian is involved in this too?"

Genkishi's eyes narrowed dangerously. Flicking a baleful gaze towards his own Mist ring, he wrapped a hand over the increasingly erratic flame that it emitted, two distinctly different shades of indigo writhing out like vines. The Vongola's Mist flame clung to his, like a parasite, and yet it felt... stronger. The flame grew stronger with the reinforcement. He spared a brief moment to raise an eyebrow, dubious, and then wiped the expression off his face as he refocused his attention upon his hesitant looking _friend_.

Gamma gritted his teeth and growled, taking an instinctive step back as he felt the air around him shiver. Then, he jumped backwards as spikes broke through the forest floor, threatening to pierce through his skin, but he wasn't one to be so easily defeated. Gathering Thunder flames in his hands, he grabbed hold of a tree branch and broke it off. The flames stripped off the bark, curling and weaving around it as Gamma drew it back and threw at Genkishi like a javelin.

With _real _illusions, Genkishi caught the sharpened branch in mid-air and spun it around, letting it gather momentum before casting it back at them. It burnt bright indigo in the air, and the air screamed as it cut through it.

Gokudera swore as the makeshift spear seemed to separate into a multitude of arrows, each still glowing brightly, shooting out to rain down on them faster than he could light his dynamites, let alone throwing them. He ducked for cover, only to be barrelled aside. When he opened his eyes again, he cringed at the sight of Ryohei above him, skewered by those sharpened branches.

His brain said that it couldn't be real, but the blood dripping onto him felt warm and terrifying.

There was a pause, then-

Ryohei shook his head rapidly, sending blood splattering everywhere around him from the wound on his forehead. The branch has grazed his skin there, nearly piercing through his skull. But he wasn't concerned about any of that, frowning down at Gokudera who was staring at him with an absolutely petrified look on his face.

"Hey, octopus head!" Ryohei shouted, lifting an arm from where it was supporting his weight to slap the other man hard across the face. He hated to do this, but they had no time. "I don't know what you're seeing, but it's not real, okay? It's fake to the limit!" He sat back and blinked away the blood that was threatening to fall into his eyes. "Now get up!"

"Then get _off_, lawn head," Gokudera bucked his hips. He shoved his opened palms at Ryohei's chest, partly to get up, and partly to verify the Sun guardian's words. Reassured that the man wasn't going to die soon, Gokudera shoved the concern aside and got to his feet.

Ryohei scrambled up immediately, his grin fading as he turned to face Genkishi again. Out of the corner of his eye, he checked for injuries on Gokudera's body, and when he found nothing, he breathed a small sigh of relief.

Standing by their side, Gamma could only shake his head. The Vongola was somewhat amusing, but he had more important things to take care of. Like Genkishi and his suddenly stronger Mist flames. Gamma's lips pressed into a line.

"I still haven't gotten a straight answer on why you're doing this," he said, almost genial.

Genkishi's eyes flickered with confusion, but he quickly smothered it with determination. "It's not so difficult a concept, Gamma. Byakuran will help the Giglionero become greater than it has ever been. Greater than the Vongola is now," he swept a sword towards the Vongola Sun and Storm.

"Greater? Bullshit," Gokudera cut in before Gamma could even think of a response. "Byakuran would just take your rings and use all of you like puppets before throwing you away. You're a fucking idiot if you believe him." He toyed with his Storm ring for a moment before his hands parted, red flames flaring up.

"No," Genkishi uttered in a low growl, turning towards Gokudera once more. "He _won't_."

***

Mukuro smiled bemusedly as he entertained himself with the Black Crusader plant. At first, it'd been boring; the plant was starting to wilt as if it had no fight in itself, as if Genkishi was only fighting out of blind loyalty to Byakuran, and didn't really want to face off with Gamma at all. Gokudera was a different story, however. Mukuro chuckled.

"How interesting..."

"What is, Mukuro-kun?" Byakuran asked, his fingers stopping on top of the keyboards of his laptop. He was smiling, eyes hidden behind the wide grin.

"Your Crusader, Byakuran-san." Mukuro looked towards him briefly, and back at the plant. "He is... so very enthralled with you, it makes me curious."

"He is," Byakuran nodded, standing up and walking over. He sat beside Mukuro on the chair, his hands caressing the leaves of the plant, tracing the waxy edges with the pad of his fingertips. "It took me quite some effort to win him over."

Mukuro tilted his head with a questioning hum, eyeing the leaves that Byakuran had told him not to touch. Perhaps it was yet another poison Byakuran was immune to. There seemed to be a lot of those.

"What did you have to do?"

Byakuran merely smiled at him. Reaching out with his other hand, he cupped Mukuro's cheek. "It'll be more fun if you try to find that out yourself, wouldn't it, Mukuro-kun?"

***

Gamma slumped back against a tree, his hands still smoking from the Thunder flames. He flexed his fingers, feeling the tips starting to turn numb and cold. His chest heaved, sweat dripping into his eyes. He had been fighting for too long, and he was starting to feel exhaustion creep up on him.

A little distance away, he could hear the crackle of wicks being lit and a deep, resounding _boom. _The ground rocked and leaves were dumped on his head from the explosion, but Gamma didn't lose his chance, immediately rushing forward, a ball of lightning in his hand aimed for Genkishi's chest.

For an instance, it seemed like the blow connected. A direct hit. But the body that he hit crumbled in a swirl of crisp leaves and Gamma felt his breath caught as his centre of gravity shifted. He saw Genkishi on his left, and on his right, mirror images, each with a raised sword in hand.

Then he couldn't see anything anymore, a solid weight slamming into him from the left causing him to go sprawling onto the floor. Gamma blinked rapidly, forcing his eyes open. He saw a flash of silver hair before light glinting off metal caught his attention and, in a flash, he rolled Gokudera out of the way before two long, black swords stabbed down to where they used to lay. Gamma gritted his teeth, punching the floor and sending wave upon wave of Thunder flames towards his once-comrade.

In his anger, it took a moment to register the fizz of lit fuses just over his shoulder. When Gamma tilted his head to look, Gokudera's hands were empty once more, having tossed two handfuls of dynamites towards Genkishi - sticks burning with both Storm and Thunder flame attributes. _What-?_

Gokudera blatantly ignored Gamma's confusion, eyes fixed on Genkishi a distance away. Throughout the battle he had been trying to draw out the other flames he knew he had, but it was too difficult without rings or any aids at all. Until now. He reached out and gripped onto Gamma's wrist, scooping up the stray bolts of Thunder flames and lighting the wicks of his dynamites with them, blending them with the core made of Storm flames before throwing them out toward his current enemy.

As the dynamites exploded, the gas solidified into sharp, bolt-like bullets. They burst apart like fireworks - but hotter, faster and far more dangerous. Genkishi's eyes widened and he swung his swords to intercept on reflex, only to hear the metal of his blades chipping, despite the Mist flame that took the brunt of the attack.

Ryohei gave a loud _whoop _of encouragement, and jogged over. "Way to go, octopussy!"

"Ch'," Gokudera said, spitting to the side, grinning to himself. The battle was far from over, however. He grabbed a few more sticks of dynamite and lit half of them with his Storm flames before throwing the rest towards Ryohei, knowing that the man would catch them with his reflexes. "Light them with your will. Hurry the hell up."

Gamma gaped as Sun guardian flung the freshly lit explosives right back towards the Vongola Storm, but Gokudera simply caught and redirected them. The Sun flames made the dynamite sticks torpedo towards Genkishi - no wait, they sped up and past him, to where he seemed to be heading!

***

Mukuro drew his hands back as if he had been burnt, and drew them close, hiding a smirk. "As expected of Hayato-kun," he lamented.

Byakuran picked up a charred leaf, tutting quietly. "My, my, what a pity." His fingers traced along the edge for the moment before crushing it, the _crack_ echoing slightly in the silent room.

His eyes turned to Mukuro, and he smiled. "But my Crusader is a little tougher than that, hmm?"

Mukuro lowered his hands and smiled back with a demure nod before turning his attention back to the black lily.

***

Genkishi dove for cover behind a tree, leaning heavily on his shoulder against the sturdy trunk. As he caught his breath, he glared down at his Mist ring, at the dark tendrils of indigo flame ensnaring his own.

It was another test, he knew, another one of those opportunities Byakuran gave him to prove the strength of his will, because Mist users were unreliable, the man had once said. And now, for some reason or other, Byakuran had managed to convince the Vongola Mist guardian to 'help.' _Byakuran trusts Rokudo that much. And I..._

_And I have yet to prove myself._

He clutched his hand tightly. At the back of his mind, the Hell ring was calling.

***

"Yamamoto Takeshi is alive," Hibari stated, sitting on the windowsill of one of the hospital's hallways, his cellphone pressed to his ear. He looked outwards, enjoying the view of the hospital's gardens and, at the very edge of his vision, the beginnings of the bustling streets of Rome. "That Byakuran had made his move. What will you do now, Sawada Tsunayoshi?"

Over the line, Tsuna sighed softly, gathering his wits about him. When he spoke, his voice was firm, as befitting the head of the Vongola family. "Byakuran can still argue otherwise. Gloxinia didn't belong to the Gesso _famiglia_ when he tried to assassinate you. Genkishi, so long as Lady Uni will have him, belongs to the Giglionero, meaning Byakuran has yet to break our alliance.

"I need to know what you plan to do first, Hibari."

Hibari's lips curved up slightly. Now and then, Tsuna would remind him why he would even bother to listen to him, much less call and inform him of his activities. The Vongola Tenth was strong - not just in battle, but in all the ways that he needed to be. He might be a herbivore still with his compassion and affection and _love_, but he still had enough strength to be respected.

That was why Hibari replied, "I will bite him to death myself."

"Your chance will come," Tsuna closed his eyes. Much as he wished otherwise, his intuition told him that his words were true. "But Byakuran will not fight you again. He knows you're the stronger one now, in terms of physical strength. If you chose to go after him rashly, he'll hide behind mafia politics... and use your actions to bring war to us, the Vongola... and Namimori."

"If he chooses to bring war to Namimori, then I will crush him," Hibari stated blandly. It wasn't a threat - he had never been one for _threats_ - but a promise that he would carry out. Byakuran had touched too much that belonged to him already - if he dared to go after Namimori, then Hibari would use every single bit of power he possessed - as the Vongola Cloud Guardian, as the Foundation's leader, as _Hibari Kyouya_ - to annihilate the Gesso until not a drop of blood belonging to any member was left on this Earth.

"Tomorrow I will kill him. You have until then to get ready."

"You will do no such thing," the Tenth snapped back. "If you choose to take him on, you might be alone, but he will not. It won't be like last time, where everyone stood back to watch the two of you fight. You're overestimating yourself if you think you can take on an entire mafia family on your own."

"Are you telling me that I will _lose_, Sawada Tsunayoshi?" Hibari asked, his voice low and purely _deadly_. At his side, his hand clenched into a fist.

"Yes," Tsuna closed his eyes again, but he remained as stubborn and unyielding as ever. For the sake of Hibari's own safety, Tsuna would do whatever he could to stop him from doing this. "You cannot take on his entire _famiglia_, Hibari-san. Especially when you have just recovered."

"How long do you want me to wait, then," Hibari growled into the phone, thoroughly irate.

A quiet sigh, "At the very most, a few days. Byakuran would have attacked us - one of us, at any rate - by then. " He winced slightly at that – he didn't want to admit it, but it was the truth. He had made a mistake, and now he – and his entire _famiglia_ – was paying for it.

"I cannot give you evidence on how I know this; only my intuition." Taking a deep breath, he continued. "I need you to work with us again, Hibari-san. In order to bring the Gesso down."

There was a long, tense silence between them, punctuated by soft, regular breaths. "Very well then, Sawada Tsunayoshi. But if at the end of two days you still wish to hide behind your _alliance_, I will fight the King of Rats myself."

After the line went dead, Tsuna thrust the phone back on its hook with a frustrated growl. His eyes went to Reborn, who sat oh so comfortably on the edge of the large mahogany table.

"Silly Tsuna," Reborn berated immediately. "You still don't know how to properly handle your Guardians."

Tsuna bit the inside of his cheek, saying nothing for a long moment. Glowering at Reborn was useless, so he just stared hard at the Vongola Sky ring, stroking it as he thought of his guardians.

Yamamoto was recovering, not just from poison, but from physical wounds that he hadn't been paying attention to. Hibari was all but ready to go. Ryohei and Gokudera were engaged in battle - whether they succeeded or needed backup, they would call. And inside, Tsuna could feel their flames brightly burning.

"...I want Chrome and Lambo on standby. No, I'm issuing a summons," he sighed. "And if Squalo hasn't left yet, tell him not to go anywhere."

Reborn looked at his student impassively, but there was the smallest upward curve to his lips. Tsuna had grown up well; had became a boss who was worthy of the Vongola name and ring. The trip into the future had matured him greatly - in fact, it had been a wake-up call for almost all the Guardians, making them realize the true extent of what it meant to be the mafia. But it had certainly affected Tsuna the most, and not in a bad way either.

But he would never tell his student this: after all, it would be bad form if the Vongola Tenth actually gained an ego.

"What are you going to do with Mukuro, then?"

"Nothing," Tsuna ducked his head briefly before leaning back in his seat to look up at Reborn. "It would be suspicious to call him back now when he's supposed to be 'taking care of Byakuran.' It'll be dangerous for him."

"He might be in even more danger if he stays by Byakuran's side," Reborn commented almost idly. He tilted his hat downwards to cover his eyes, "Tsuna. If Byakuran uses Mukuro as a bargaining chip, will you give in?"

Tsuna shook his head automatically. "But I won't leave him to a man who doesn't deserve him." He frowned as he continued, "If Byakuran does do that... Mukuro is _my_ guardian. And I am strongest when I am protecting what is mine."

"A man who doesn't deserve him," Reborn repeated, enough scorn in his voice to drown a man. "Your job as the Tenth is not to matchmake, Tsuna." His words were sharp, tone harsh. He jumped off the desk to stand in front of Tsuna. "The _famiglia_ - that is the most important. You have learnt that, haven't you?"

"Exactly," Tsuna shot back. "And the _famiglia _is nothing without the people who make its existence possible. I would do the same for any of my guardians."

"What if he betrays you? What will you do, then?" Reborn's fingers traced the edge of the desk as he circled it, falsely casual.

"Hibari-san can do whatever he wants with that Byakuran..." Tsuna looked side darkly. "If Mukuro betrays me..." He couldn't believe he was even entertaining the idea. "It would be against his will. I know it."

It seemed like Tsuna wanted to say more, his lips parting again, briefly, but then he clamped his mouth shut again, stubborn.

"He wants to destroy the mafia," Reborn seemed to muse aloud, walking over to the other end. "Why do you trust him so much? What makes you think he will obey you and not jump ship the moment there is someone stronger?" His hand slammed down against the desk, but his expression remained unchanged - cold, impassive, with a sharp-edge smile curving up his lips.

Tsuna smiled sadly. He knew that his mentor was not pleased, but he couldn't seem to find the words to explain himself. He just _knew_. "It's not about strength, Reborn... Not at all."

Reborn leaned in closer, his eyes chips of black ice and lips pressed into a thin line. "Then what is it about, Tsuna? What do you think Rokudo Mukuro wants from you?"

"I can... change the mafia. I can destroy the thing he hates by changing it into something else."

"What do you think you can do, Tsuna?" Reborn raised an eyebrow, perfectly disdainful. "You are just a boss of one Family. The mafia consists of far more than you can imagine."

"But I'm not just any boss of any Family." Tsuna shut his eyes for a second. When he opened them again, they seemed to glow with amber fire from within. "I'm the Vongola Sky, whose reach is far and wide, and _growing_ with every alliance that we make.

"That's why I refuse to break our ties with the Gesso," he shook his head. "If that's what they want though, so be it, but I won't let them ruin the harmony that I've spread amongst my other alliances either."

Tsuna stood up slowly from his seat, and rose, walking towards the window. "Do you remember, Reborn? You were there when I used my dying will to purify the dark aura Mukuro was wrapped up in... I didn't understand the significance of that when I was younger, but I do now. There's no need to solve everything with death and violence."

At the end of that long speech, Reborn finally took a step back from the table. He tilted his head down, the brim of his hat casting a long shadow across his face, hiding his eyes as he slowly walked towards the couch. He dropped back into it, still silent and perfectly aware of the rising tension in the room.

He smiled, and tilted his head back to meet Tsuna's eyes.

"Don't ever lose that determination, Tsuna. Your Guardians are strong, and so are your allies, but are _you_?" His eyes demanded a _yes_, no other answer allowed. "If you want to change the mafia, then change it. Grow even stronger if you still aren't strong enough. But change it. That is what the Ninth chose you for."

"And then," Tsuna shied a glance towards him, a small grin curling up. He laughed, "I can take over the world."

***

Gamma could barely believe his eyes, but Genkishi wasn't fighting them anymore. They were still facing a dark crusader all right, but it wasn't the Phantom Knight that he knew. No, it was a monster. A giant, hulking, armor-encased monster.

It didn't even sound like Genkishi, its voice loud but rasping, and far too malicious. And it wasn't an illusion.

Gokudera paled upon seeing it. He knew, immediately, that it was caused by the Hell Ring - the Tenth had told him enough about it for him to recognize him at first sight. He had a creeping sense of déjà vu all over again, and cursed himself for not being able to stop history from repeating itself. _Again_.

"Goddamnit," he growled out loud, fingers tightening around another stick of dynamite. "We're not going down, _Phantom Knight_, no matter what tricks you pull out of your sleeves."

The knight screeched at them, laughing like he was mad. "I'm going to flay you, Storm guardian. I'm going to tear you limb from limb and paint the ground red with your blood!"

"G-Genkishi..." Gammagaped_. It wasn't Genkishi._

"Like hell you would," Gokudera spat back. He glanced at first Ryohei, then Gamma, making a small jerk of his head to motion to them to move backwards. Gamma stumbled slightly as he did so, moving more on automatic than anything else as he continued staring at Genkishi- or rather, the monster that used to be his comrade.

He gulped slightly, opening his mouth but he couldn't think of anything to say. Had Byakuran really driven him _this _far?

Ryohei, in the mean time, only jogged closer to Gokudera, plucking a couple of sticks of dynamites out of his hand. He lit them, and then passed them back to the Storm Guardian who only nodded at him, mixing red Storm flames with the yellow Sun ones. Then, Gokudera tugged on Ryohei's sleeves and threw the dynamites at Genkishi before diving for cover.

Gamma ran after them, panting heavily and ducking behind a tree just as the explosives went off. He ran a hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to tell himself to stay calm. He wanted to yell at Genkishi all over again.

Suddenly, he was pulled forward by the tie. His eyes went wide, even when he discovered that it was a human face. It was the Hurricane Bomber snarling at him with almost pitying eyes. _Pitying? Understanding?_

"Now's the time to show the strength of your resolve, bastard."

"Yea!" Ryohei said, coming up beside Gokudera. He reached over and patted Gamma hard on the shoulder. "Let's beat him down to the limit!"

_I don't want to, _was Gamma's first response. Traitor though he might be, Genkishi was still his comrade, his _friend_. They had worked on missions together, had served Lady Uni and her mother together. He couldn't understand why the other man would suddenly betray the Giglionero like that; nothing of what Genkishi had said had made any sense at all.

But he pushed back those thoughts, focusing back on the situation. He flexed his fingers, turning to the Vongola Guardians. "I don't need you to tell me that," he said, smiling a little viciously. Thunder flames sparked at his fingers as he flexed them.

"Ch'," Gokudera smirked knowingly. "Then work with me, guys." He might as well have said _follow my lead_ as he looked from Gamma to Ryohei and back. "These dynamites hit fastest with Sun flame, but strongest with Thunder."

"But sword brows is fast to the extreme, too!" Ryohei cut in.

"Then you've _got _to be faster!"

Gamma's eyes darted between the two of them before resting on Gokudera. He nodded, "Then we'll stun him with the Sun flames first." His tone was crisp, cold, professional. "Take him down, before the Thunder flames finish the job." Then, he paused, as if something just occurred to him.

"What about your flames, Vongola Storm?"

For a brief moment, Gokudera wanted to roll his eyes. Then he reminded himself, this Gamma didn't have the chance to figure it out, so he had to spell it out for him. "Mine have to be at the core, to control when these babies blow up. Your flame has to wrap around mine. You catch my drift?"

But Gamma got the feeling nonetheless, and felt a spark of irritation in return. But he smoothed out his frown and simply nodded. "I follow your logic."

"So let's start already!" Ryohei barged in between the two of them. In the slight distance, he could already hear Genkishi's heavy footsteps. "Give me those dynamites, octopus head."

"Catch." Gokudera tossed them over - live ones - with a flick of his wrist, frowning harder briefly as he recalculated how much he had left, then shoved a number of sticks against Gamma's chest. "Aim to kill, or knock him out, whichever. So long as we stop him without letting him get away."

Gamma nodded, biting back a sarcastic reply. It was bad enough that he had to fight Genkishi, but it was outright _strange_, the way the Vongola Storm looked at him.

But as Ryohei darted off, Gokudera refocused his attention onto the live dynamite in the Sun guardian's hands. He had to concentrate on the timing, and had no time for Gamma's reply.

Ryohei caught the dynamites all in one hand, biting down on a lip as he scrambled with them slightly. His Sun flames burnt brightly in his other hand, illuminating the trees around him and he knew that Genkishi would be able to see it and approach him.

He wrapped the yellow flames around Gokudera's red Storm ones carefully, making sure that they mixed together properly before he stepped out from the trees out into the open. Taking aim, he drew an arm back and threw the dynamites straight towards Genkishi's face.

Gamma growled at the lack of warning, Thunder flames sparking and reaching outwards. Concentrating, he separates them into little balls before lobbing each of them towards the dynamites as they flew towards Genkishi. The flames spread as they soared through the air, and the fuses caught the flames.

Gokudera drew his arm back, the way Yamamoto had painstakingly managed to teach him after many years, and hurled more Storm flame into the mix for good measure, making it sink past the Thunder into the gunpowder.

Just before a chain of explosions went off, however, he swore.

"Lawn head! Get out of the-"

***

Due to time constraints (my schedule is insane) and severe hatred of the FFN uploading system ((t shouldn't take me nearly half an hour to upload ONE chapter!), we would like to direct all of your dear readers to kagayachou's journal on livejournal. Just type in 'kagayachou' followed by livejournal followed by a dot and then com. Or go to my profile page: there is a link there that will direct you to where Windshear is uploaded.

Currently, on LJ, we're on chapter 35.

Enjoy, and leave a comment either here or there! We will sincerely appreciate it. Thank you!


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